Post #593
3/4 That sickening sound.
Extra concrete on the cornflakes built the bravado to head the Saturday Sanctuary crew for the first leg to Mitchell Rd, hoping my mid thirties suggestion of speed would stick. It was Kim's maiden flight with this squad and a baptism of flat-chat wasn't the first impression to make. Bo, Tina, PistolPete, Emil, The Godfather, Kel and visitor OutlawAndy (B-twin) hopefully hadn't dozed off while I took time to turn up the velocity to pleasant, not punishing. PistolPete took over for the eastern effort to Kialla Central and continued to River Rd, so far so good ; the speed stayed sane. Tina's turn toward the bridge had Kim in tow and after a little hesitation, OutlawAndy took responsibility nearing Laws Drive. He'll be welcomed back, setting a compliant pace all the way to rooster corner.
PistolPete's enthusiasm showed north to the highway, but no complaints were lodged on the extra k's added to the hurry. Kel made a concerted effort to make up time to Old Dookie Rd after a hesitation at the highway, Bo driving the three k's to the Toaster while The Godfather's chain clattered a half gear in my ear. Quite the Di discord. Sledges were swapped (of course) as Bo handed the helm to The Godfather. I'd guessed (correctly) he'd go to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd in an "I can do better than Bo" response. I'd had a twenty three k holiday from the lead so arrived at the front feeling somewhat fresh, but in no great rush to get up to pace westward. Be kind to Kim, she might bite!
GiantAndy and Liam had peeled off the Cat pack and u-turned to hunt us down but a split second's distraction reaching for a bidon had their wheels touch. That unmistakable and sickening sound of carbon fibre being ground against tarmac came from behind. Careful not to be shunted, a gradual slow and u-turn found Liam on the deck and feeling the effects of the impact. Many suspected a likely collarbone or rib breakage but paramedics were hailed for a more professional assessment. The wait seemed endless....and the cold set it. All the details get recounted (in an attempt to make sense of it I guess) but crashes are just part of the job when all's said and done. We will rush about just a few centimetres apart!
The ambulance eventually arrived and administration of the famous green stick gave Liam a little relief. Nadine arrived soon after to ferry the stricken Scott homeward, so our ride resumed under a cloud of caution. Pistol turned the speed up gently, quite the chill felt after twenty minutes stationary in twelve degrees. Mid thirties eventually had the internal heaters working, OutlawAndy, GiantAndy and Emil taking their turns to tow us back into town. Well behind agenda, the Verney Rd route to the Butter Factory was the shortest way to warmth via caffeine.
Liam was discharged early afternoon when x-rays and scans said no broken bones. Young and fit, he'll be back before long, faster than ever.
5/4 Exorcising Easter's excesses.
So it wasn't just me suffering the southerly down to Sanctuary Drive. I was beginning to think it was me making a mountain of the commute but Emil was in struggle street too (so he said ; he just doesn't show it!) Easter Monday had attracted a good turn-up, a combination of shop and Sanctuary squads in a public holiday harmony. Rocket, Lenny, Wozza, ChrisA and Grumpy joined Tina, PistolPete, Bo, The Godfather, Kel, Emil, OutlawAndy, Gazza, Temple and Kreeky at the grid, with all but the big engines hiding from the front.
Twenty k's worth of southerly sought the strong. PistolPete led the line for a hundred metres when Rocket formed the advance line alongside (riding two rows is a strange sensation after more than a year of Covid induced Indian file) I quickly made a b line for the left row, a longer wait till reaching the business end in an anti-clockwise roll. Bo ahead and Kel behind wasn't a bad place to be, many of the big guns were already line astern in the advance. I could settle back for a while, out of that strength sapping southerly, socialize and psyche up for work on the front later.
Not until half distance of River Rd did I go from demotion to promotion into the up-line. Grumpy's wheel was now my focus, he'd joined the tail from a late arrival in Kialla Central (I'd hoped he didn't have too much enthusiasm for breakfast!) Forties was no big deal in Coach Rd, the strength of that southerly now paying dividends. Tina and Kel's shifts were shorter than expected, my graduation would be happening sooner than I'd thought. Looks like my time would come on the easterly drive to the Toaster. Kel called the roll on Old Dookie Rd's bridge and Grumpy took to the front, his wheel well ahead but I wasn't in the mood to argue Rule #86. He could have that 700mm advantage. I was going well (under the circumstances) and not about to blow a head gasket for the sake of a tit-for-tat battle to stay level.
I'd survived the speed to the Toaster, Bo now alongside (and not ahead) for the drive to the church. There's a positive air about riding in daylight rather than spearing through the darkness, the return to eastern standard time brings it's benefits......for a few weeks anyway, till the days shorten further. It was better to go out on a high instead of murdering muscles beyond their limits so I called Bo across at New Dookie to take in the draft (and some much needed oxygen). The holiday had inspired a longer Saturday circuit now that time wasn't the enemy. Rocket, Wozza, Gazza, OutlawAndy, Lenny and ChrisA lined up to drive two rows west and here's me smugly being demoted down the order resting assured my driving for the day was done. The pace picked up nearing suburbia (I'll blame the thought of getting closer to breakfast and coffee) and as if to smash my smugness, the turns were rolling quicker with it.
Kreeky, The Godfather and Temple dragged us to Wanganui Rd with forties still on the speedos, Tina taking refuge in the left line when a turn looked likely out front. Mr. Smug was quickly preparing for work again! Kel rolled just beyond DECA's test track, Grumpy and I left to do duty over Mt. Wanganui (level this time) I'd almost expected the swift to launch a sprint but we were left to lead to Rudd Rd. Maybe they'd dozed off at the back? Into that wind beside Bo toward Golf Drive emptied my jar of jellybeans. Thoughts of coffee were my focus while legs launched a lawsuit on Rocket driving the bunch into single file along the Boulevard. The Butter Factory provided the much needed fix, tongues tattling on 50mm wheels, life's watershed moments and Bo's vinyl addiction.
6/4 Tuesday's tap.
Six bells had struck and it seemed BamBam was a no show. AlmostRetiredTrev and Temple were ready to roll and choosing a circuit was almost resolved when BamBam finally appeared. So it was (fortuitously) four to tap the Channel, Boundary and Old Dookie short circuit. I'd been elected to drive the first shift which wasn't so daunting, the annoying southerly I'd fought to get to the grid was now assisting my speed to get to Channel Rd. That made the expected drive to the truck route a little easier. Temple made the 1200 metre drive to Orrvale Rd look easy. The southerly wasn't blowing a gale but it was certainly noticeable on the open plains of the ChaCha as Temple extended his effort to the Kinder. BamBam had drawn the short straw of the southerly on Central Ave but the 500 metres to McFadyen wasn't so taxing.
He'd handed the leadership to AlmostRetiredTrev at the cypress trees and that put me at second wheel to the short guy. Not so bad at a speed less than breathtaking. The stars had aligned to bless me with the wind assisted leg of Boundary Rd when AlmostRetiredTrev handed over at the end of Channel Rd but I shouldn't get greedy in the current company. The fig farm was far enough before I'd be accused of being Bo. Looks like I'd be blessed with a tow home too! Ten degrees felt colder with the chill factor thrown in by the southerly ; maybe running at less than than full throttle the internal heater wasn't up to it's usual temperature? Muscles enjoyed a lap less laborious though. Temple and BamBam did their bit to the truck route, AlmostRetiredTrev finishing off with a sedate spin to SPC, (usually spent at full throttle)
7/4 Repeat as necessary (caution : may become addictive!)
There's nothing quite like slowly reeling in that red led ahead to lift your game. A south southwester was at us again but that blinking tail-light of OutlawAndy's was a bait to spike the speed beyond the comfort zone. The Godfather, Col, Tina, Emil, Kel, OutlawAndy and Bo cruised Sanctuary Drive with a minute to go, only PistolPete at the grid ready for his opening act. In line at third wheel behind Emil wasn't so bad, hopefully I'd get the Mitchell to River shift and it's southerly to help my hurry. Pete's pace was predictably quick and Emil wasted no time dragging us to Central Kialla ; time to face the front Foss and test your limits! Keep it straight and smooth, the master of it is behind you! (Now old boy, try to get the tempo up to spec and watch for rogue rabbits, pot-holes or anything that fell off the back of a truck in the dark, keep an eye on "cars up" and an ear open for "car back".....oh, and don't blow-up before the end of shift at River Rd! No pressure mind you!) The briefest of Garmin glimpses kept a tab on holding something nearing forty but eyes were averted from the revs the heart was doing. That reality could be analysed later, not agonized over now!
Despite the internal pessimist's predictions, I'd made it to River Rd mostly coherent and happy to hand the helm to Kel. It took a while for the heart to get off it's high horse but by the bridge (where Tina took over) most things were back in focus. Col headed the line beyond the dip and set about burning off his Easter excesses (egg-sesses?) but his will ran shy of reaching rooster corner. Bo took on the shortfall and continued the drive north on Coach Rd (ain't martyrdom a wonderful thing?) OutlawAndy's lean profile headed the pack north toward Old Dookie Rd, the snooker-table-flat stretch of Boundary Rd a little different to his native Eastern Creek. Despite the pasting we all dish up to The Godfather, he serves up a pretty swift shift, the variables in velocity we're all accustomed to (and the comedy makes up for any inconvenience) Like most, I was ready for the surge that signs the end of his shift. PistolPete restored rhythm for the 2800 metres to the truck route while I opened the reserve tank ready for Emil's exertion to SPC, what's become a habitual hurry to get to coffee.
A day off the bike Thursday then rain Friday ended the week very peacefully!
This week 205km YTD 3,900
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