Pace in perspective.

 Post #589

6/3  The lost art of social cycling.

Some may say it's softening, I'll call it seeking the social stuff.  I've had no issue with the speed of the Sanctuary squad, I've served a 9 month sentence of speed with them, but for a little holiday from the hurry I'd promised myself a Saturday spin with the Woulda's.    Some I hadn't seen since Covid had divided the Couldabeens into regulation sized divisions.  Seems it's permanent and possibly for the better.  More manageable bunch sizes, a variety of velocities to suit the swift or the slower and several in between  (Finding your niche can be a great motivator)     A casual roll to start Saturday was sublime, though that tiresome southerly still blew, but the Kialla Lakes grid had saved a couple of k's off the commute.   

TrekTrev, NearlyRetiredTrev, Temple, Pelly, Naomi, Shorty, Wendy and Joe (not Tony) gathered at the roundabout, six bells motivating NearlyRetiredTrev to guide our twisting southerly course to Sanctuary Drive where the standard circuit could begin.  I'd been promoted to captain Archer Rd's effort, so stayed on till Mitchell Rd in appreciation of being included. (keeping the welcome mat out....I might need this mob as age whittles down the wattage)       Indian file soon fanned into to rows across Mitchell Rd in a chivalrous gesture to shield Wendy and Naomi from the strengthening southerly.  It's the done thing to look after those new to this addiction (and there's that "hell hath no fury" thing too!)  A few turns rolled along Mitchell's 6 k stretch to Coach Rd where the tail-wind could be savoured, and that lured Naomi and Wendy from the caboose.  The rides of old were re-lived, a chat with the rider alongside even at the business end was a pleasure that seems to have been lost to history.  It was commonplace not so long ago, single filed and speed seemingly relegating the chat to the confines of the cafe now.  

TrekTrev has tamed his rides a tad, taking to the trails with wifey more so, Pelly's finding the financials of entering a half marathon a big motivator, Shorty's having  his bike time strangled by work demands and AlmostRetiredTrev might need a FarFromRetired prefix working 3 or 4 days a week.  (I get few of these informal snippets these days, oxygen intake seems to take up most of my ride time!  I'll blame quick company)  My position in the rotation had put me on Wendy's wheel, not one I'd ridden with before so caution came to the fore (no reason for alarm, it's just a survival thing when we place our trust in very close company)    The body language spoke of big effort into Old Dookie Rd so calm would be her  best company.  I remember "Your speed" called by a co-pilot as reassuring in the early days of apprenticeship, nothing crushes hopes like a half wheeler (or "whole biker") when you're fronting a bunch in the early impressionable years.  

There was a credible k given to the bridge, the turn rolled before the limit was hit and that set a steady pace out to the Toaster then north to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  The sun struggled to make it's appearance, temperature dropping a fraction but it felt like the fridge door had been left ajar in places.  Running below full steam probably does that.  Riding well off the rivet was  pleasant (must do this again sometime) and turns had rolled full circle by the main eastern channel so focus was fixed on staying within the prior pace parameters.  Without a lot of wear and tear we were at the town's limits and preparing for the work on Wanganui was not necessary, the last leg was south on Verney to BelCibo for breakfast, a sprint finish out of the question.   Sports psychology, climatising to the cold and 3 Peaks occupied the conversation while taste buds enjoyed a rather moorish muesli. 

8/3 Fortuitously four.

I nearly pulled the pin hearing spots from the sky, but then it's poor form to call a ride and not turn up! (not mentioning names BamBam!)   The road ranked almost glossy (the bike was overdue for a clean anyway) but the un-seasonal 19 degrees at this hour promised to dry it before long. As well as the weather, a public holiday threatened to thin the ranks but Emil and I were overdosing on optimism.  But Sanctuary Drive was deserted!  (mental note made on the "no-shows", there'd be retaliation later)  Two would be a test!  Thankfully, ChrisA had arrived to reduce the workload by 33%, the roll south toward Mitchell finding The Godfather a minute late but he'd lighten the load some more.  I still craved a bucket of wattage to keep pace with this trio.  Second wheel to Emil wasn't the best beginning, I was lightly toasted both sides by the time we'd reached Mitchell Rd.  My turn to Central Kialla started ok but the energy was evaporating with a k still to travel, there wasn't the wind of last week but a light breeze was squashing the speed from the east.  The Godfather was perfectly positioned for the north shift to River Rd.   ChrisA headed the hurry east, youth driving the speedo's into the 40's but that easterly was wearing him down too by the bridge.  So, it's not just me!  Emil took over and sped on through the dip, headed in a hurry to the quarter horse gates while I wondered if he was on a mission to make Coach Rd his target (I hoped not, 'cause this bit of toast was burning already!)  I didn't really want to face the front but I'd be a smoldering heap of carbon before long, so Emil was doing me a favor handing over the task.  Again, the shift started ok but barely a k had passed when the legs refused to do what the head wanted.  Time to be towed....if I could catch the tail!  The Godfather did well to drive on to rooster corner.   

Cloud cover at 6 am made the northern path as black as the ace of spades so I aimed my light low to avoid that backlit blindness for the lads ahead.  ChrisA took on the tempo toward the bridges but his elbow said enough reaching One Tree Dam.  Shorter shifts were probably a better plan with just a few.  Emil defied that idea, driving to the highway but then, as you've guessed, I was up for the lead role again!  Strangely, my third session at the front was better, a little less labor and going a little further probably due to a bit breeze at the backside.  Getting to the fig farm was enough (save a few watts Foss, there'd be another shift to serve) so I left The Godfather to take us to Old Dookie Rd.  He'd added another k west to School Rd so I may be spared from the fourth?  ChrisA  had found a second wind to go long to Central Ave, Emil with the lead toward town.  I thought he'd drive the distance to the truck route but his headlight barely lit two metres ahead (a dark morning and damp tarmac wouldn't have helped) so I had the task from Dobson's estate.  Cue sound effect of Datsun 180B minus a spark plug at 7600 rpm.  

9/3  A morning smoothie.

The Woulda's had called for a "quiet roll" (presuming they'd meant speed not volume) so time constraints for me meant the Sanctuary squad was my only option to stay on agenda.  I left home 4 minutes early to ensure a calm commute.  I might need all the horsepower I could raise.  PistolPete was the sole starter at the 5:39 grid, my panic subsiding when Kreeky, Tina, Col, Kel and The Godfather arrived.  Second wheel to PistolPete may have been jumping straight into the deep end but I was banking on the southwester (yep, windy again!) to be my bonus toward Central Kialla.  It was.....but I was spent getting to Euroa Rd. (too much south and not enough west in that bonus)  The Godfather again scored the north drive to River but at least donated more to get us to the bridge.  Kreeky was now in the drivers seat and had his legs locked into long gear, this was the Kreeky of old dragging us along.  All the way to rooster corner if you don't mind.  (would that save me from a second shift later? About as likely as a mild morning with no wind!)  

Kel made the most of that modest breeze to make haste to the Broken bridges (some considerate soul has line-marked yellow that dip near Channel Rd that can get you airborne) Tina piloting the pace to the pub (unfortunately still not open.  We could have toasted her birthday!)   Col's made the 2700 metre shift to Old Dookie his trademark turn, setting a rather smooth speed into the bargain.  I could take plenty of this!  All good things come to an end, the work west on Old Dookie Rd hanging onto PistolPete's wheel in the 40's was at hand (as if the southwester would slow him!)    Finding that perfect draft was difficult, if Pete had a lot more ballast and the wind stopped changing it's direction life would be easy!  Central Ave and it was time to face the front, the aim was only to Dobson's bridge but that seemed too far just 100 metres beyond Central Ave!  Shut up legs!  I'd managed to keep a reasonable speed but doing a good distance was out of the question.  There was some reassurance catching PistolPete's wheel, even more comfort found at the truck route when the heart's Hiroshima had subsided.

10/3 Their quiet.....my quick!

Spreading myself around socially, I braved the shop squad on Wednesday ; I was assured the speed was to be capped 'cause that's the only way I could reconnect with the swift division (unless they'd stopped at a cafe)   Guess what?  A southerly blew yet again!  Wasn't it luck the shop is 3 k shy of Sanctuary Drive, I didn't have to go full steam to make the grid by 5:40.  It's been many months since berthing at the shop, Rocket, Bruce, Nev, Boof, Wozza and Lance forming a small clan to tap the 29 k circuit of Channel, Boundary, Ford, Wanganui and Rudd Rd (their version of "tap" my version of "torment")    It was best for me to start at the back, I needed time to climatize to quick company.  (it takes 3 or 4 k's to get this old engine into the rhythm)   Two rows had formed so I was nearly up to temperature when duty called at the front. Beautifully timed Foss, straight into that southerly on Central Ave!  Rocket kindly held himself in first gear and pulled the handbrake up a notch or two, 600 metres of slog was needed till the ease of heading east to the cypress trees. 

Part 2 beside Nev would be the test, I'm not used to a drive of this length (it's an Indian file syndrome of 2 k turns) so an extra 2 k to the S bend had all but finished me.  And these guys are happily chatting away in cruise mode!  I was on the brink of breathlessness! And obviously in the wrong league.  Just as well this was "quiet roll" day.  Despite my dramas, it was great to soak up some sociology with these lads I see little of these days ; mind you, my sentences were just a few words long, oxygen intake was the priority.  All got a go at the front in Boundary Rd with the southerly's assistance while I realised my next turn would have that wind whipping at my side in Lemnos-Cosgrove.  Luck of the draw eh?  Paired with Rocket then Nev again, I shortened my shifts as a preventative measure of going o.t.a.  6:30 am and still drowned in darkness puts a dampener on the day, though back to eastern standard time soon will give us some (short-lived) relief.  Nev moved onto Rocket's wheel at Grahamvale Rd, probably trying to save me the workload in Wanganui, he and Rocket doing duty to Rudd Rd was a bonus, but there I had to deal with the headwind and Nev's enthusiasm on the front.  He'd just warmed up by the Boulevard, so I slipped into his draft before detonation.

11/3  Therapy.

It wasn't a hologram.  That sizeable silhouette ahead was BamBam! After nearly a week of "maybe's", he'd actually thrown a leg over the Giant and turned the cranks for the second time this month.  Ralphy, AlmostReturedTrev, Goose and young Jack had turned up to Kialla Lakes roundabout to see this rare sighting, young Jack setting the wheels rolling on a new bike to Channel Rd.   All fell comfortably into Indian file.  Last in line was a pleasant change for me.  I hadn't seen Goose on a bike since pre-Covid times and he's obviously kept the engine tuned, his shift to the truck route kept the line silent.   AlmostRetiredTrev tapped his turn to Orrvale Rd where BamBam did his debut drive.  The smooth surface of the ChaCha and a south southwester to supplement the speed was the ideal introduction.  Ralphy bore the Central Ave breeze then no doubt relished the way east to the cypress trees.  After 6 k's worth of being towed it was my turn to do duty.  That draft was deceptive, quite a contrast to carve through the atmosphere for the others, the fresh south southeaster calling on a lot more power from the engine room.   I'd thought about a handover to young Jack at the S bend but reckoned on Coach R being the conclusion instead, putting a little more struggle in Strava's score.   Young Jack was 40 something years my junior, he could cope with that breeze head-on.  A bike had attached to the rear of the line as we spun south to Mitchell, but took the River Rd option west.  

No idea who; a glance back and I was blinded by 400 lumens for being inquisitive.  Goose and AlmostRetiredTrev shared the work to Mitchell Rd so it was left to BamBam to make an impression westward.  And to be fair, he did do a decent drive.  Ralphy was elected captain two minutes before reaching the dog-leg (the sole landmark in these parts) and for a moment I thought he'd take us all the way to Euroa Rd.  Wrong!  I'd been shown the front two k's shy.   My turn to tow.  The bike diverting via River Rd was intercepted at Euroa Rd, it was ChrisA now rejoining us to work west toward the highway.  It's quite therapeutic to spin along below the red-line though there's not a lot of challenge riding below the limit too often.  A day or two maybe, to keep pace in perspective and the inspiration on simmer.  Back to life on the rivet tomorrow.  NearlyRetiredTrev led us into Roubaix corner, BamBam and Ralphy dividing the drive to Arcadia Downs, ChrisA making amends for 'sitting on' with a long drive to Conrod's finish line (at a Wouldabeen's compliant pace) 

12/3  Uniformity.

Talk about flogging a dead horse!  With the throttle wide open, 32 was all I could muster and there wasn't a southerly to blame the sluggishness on!  Using that old chestnut of "heavy air"(99% humidity) is such a lame excuse, I think the head just didn't want to hurry to Sanctuary Drive. I was ready to roll quietly back to the Butter Factory and enjoy a relaxed long black but I'd only just got to the starting grid!  (Rule #5 contemplation Foss)    A uniformed crew had assembled  (Kreeky, Emil, Col, Bo, Tina, Kel, Jen and The Godfather) and PistolPete was ready to launch south.....this wouldn't hurt a bit!   I at least had the sense to start at fifth wheel, there'd be nearly fifteen minutes of that contemplation before the hurt at the front.  Pistol put the pace up beyond the truck route and the whole world vanished as focus tuned into a single site ahead (Bo's rear disc.....I'm easily distracted by shiny things!) while legs did their business to stay in the draft ; maybe all the head's energy was needed to supplement those lax legs? Kreeky pulled back the pace a couple of clicks on Mitchell which felt like a holiday, enough respite hopefully in preparation for Emil's squirt of speed to River Rd.  (Oops! Not enough respite, Emil was egged on to drive to the bridge!)  

Col's turn to that white fence at the quarter horse stud had a fraction less urgency than Emil's effort, I'd almost got a breath or two back when Bo was given the lead.  (getting closer to the hurty stuff now Foss, HTFU!)   Bo's smooth speed to rooster corner was manageable but I could swear a northeaster was building to shame my shift north in Coach Rd.  (Thoughts were throttling me today!  Shut up head!)   Of course, there wasn't a puff of wind when I was given the reigns.  Slowly building up the cadence toward the Broken bridges a glance at the Garmin showed prior pace had been reached, but how long would it last?  Only the head would know!   The aim was to reach the Broken but those lax legs told the head to raise the white flag 50 metres shy.  Tina did a far better drive to the pub but the line was split by approaching highway traffic.  Kel calmed her start for Col, Bo and I to reconnect, building up the pace carefully so we'd stay connected.  Jen was given the task of reaching Old Dookie Rd at the fig farm, The Godfather set loose on the westward distance to Central Ave (3 km).    PistolPete pushed the pace into the 40's to Dobson's estate and the speed kept soaring beyond (Just when you think you're on the limit, you manage to find a little bit more to hang on. I rewound to earlier thoughts of flogging the dead horse at 32!)   And just when I  hoped there'd be a cruisy finish, Kreeky set a supersonic speed to SPC.  Don't you just love life on the rivet! 

This week 295 km          YTD 2,793 km