The spasms of speed.

 Post #592

27/3  Saturday succotash (the suffering sort!) 

Expecting a sociable spin may have been my downfall.  The usual small band of Sanctuary starters (PistolPete, Tina, Emil, Bo, The Godfather and Col) assembled for the 6 am launch and I'd joined the back of the line as PistolPete started the spin south.  A north northeaster had us to Mitchell Rd with little delay.  (the next 23 km would put us to work into it)  

All was well seated in the caboose, Emil's effort east to Kialla Central was the usual strain (or is that just me belly aching?), Col's drive to River Rd at a decent rate of knots too.  That wind mustn't be what it seemed.  The flat 6 km stretch to Coach Rd (with that little 2 metre dip in the middle) was started by Bo, the wind whipping across the flat-lands now a little more noticeable.  Bo reckoned he had nothing retreating to the rear at the bridge.  Tina did her bit to the dip, The Godfather driving long to Coach Rd (with the tail in the gutter of course!)

And wasn't I placed well ; due for my first turn into the wind with PistolPete's pace to catch when I'd finished (I'd better stop dwelling on it and start driving it!)  The work at the front tends to be masked in the draft, into the drivers' seat and reality hit hard.  It's disappointing to barely get the Garmin to 37, frustrating that the engine room wouldn't supply more.  Was that PistolPete yawning behind while I squinted to see the Broken bridges in the distance?  There comes a point when you know driving any harder will tip you into zone 5 and the tank will run empty, weighed with the need for some strength to catch the caboose when PistolPete took the reigns.  Within metres of the bridges my elbow made the decision for Pete to pass. Col's advice of "hit it" was wise, watts I didn't know were there were spent to find Pistol's 41 km/h pace.  Inadequacy filled the pre-frontal cortex as the tarmac blurred to the highway, Emil was due next so hurt was today's main course.  Just that moment off the gas at the intersection was heaven, and Emil's steady build up to speed beyond the pub was appreciated by lame legs.  The heart rate was slowly climbing down off it's high horse, the smooth tarmac to the fig farm adding some psychological ease, so normality was making it's return when Col did his turn to the Toaster.  Bo turned up the comfort by turning down the tempo to the Pine Lodge church, Tina's turn a short one to the rail-line where The Godfather returned to duty.  I had high hopes the north northeaster would err on the easterly side for the long leg back to town  (tell him he's dreamin'!)  

Second wheel syndrome had my numbers rising as The Godfather's enthusiasm elevated, how long he'd be hero at the front was anyone's guess!  He did have a spare breath to pass on his kindest regards to the Cats as we crossed paths at the Pine Lodge Creek.  The wait until he'd called it quits at Boundary Rd seemed an eternity, I felt well and truly slow roasted when given the task at the front.  Teamwork echoed through the skull to give it a go, but messages of murder from the muscles were drowning that out. Any though of reaching the main eastern channel were abandoned 200 metres shy, catching the caboose became the new priority. There was a whole world of hurt to catch the caboose when PistolPete added 5 k to the tempo, his status as a nice guy was before the review committee till he'd finished his hurry at Lemnos North Rd.  A drop of 5 bpm gave me slim hope of holding on as Emil kept the speed simmering to Grahamvale Rd.  Col's drive to Verney was sustainable but the lights of the pursuing shop squad were closing in.   That was a red flag to Bo when he took the captaincy.  We'd almost had the line together after crossing Numurkah Rd when the shop squad swept by, but Bo bolted to catch their draft  (have  Saturdays become all about suffering or do I need to sprinkle even more concrete on my breakfast?)  Thoughts of abandoning ship were at the forefront as 47 showed on the speedo at DECA, so when Tina peeled off the procession I needed no convincing, we could keep company with a combined o.t.a!  Settling for mid 30's and sharing the workload got us to the Butter Factory just as the others had seated.  The culinary refinement of maple syrup on baked beans, vets propensity for highway robbery and Col's curse of coriander kept the conversation interesting over breakfast.

29/3  Monday Mass.

Plenty of led's lit Sanctuary Drive in the dark of Monday morning and that almost guaranteed there be just one turn for most of the mass.  GreatScottSteve made a welcome return to the grid, joining The Godfather, PistolPete, Col, Tina, Bo, Emil, Kreeky and Kel who'd lined up for 5:40 labor.  I don't need to tell you who led the line to Mitchell Rd, but I'd started third wheel behind Col so it wasn't diving in the deep end ; there'd be ten minutes or so to prepare for pain.  Good news?  No wind!  

I got the two k leg through Kialla Central to River Rd, pancake flat with a tarmac smoothed by lots of daytime traffic.  Despite that, I was well into hard labor with almost 600 to go and wondering where the wattage would come from when the holler of "truck back!" saved me.  The wait for the B double to pass seemed to drag on, but the draft was well worth it when it arrived.  It almost made my turn worthy!  GreatScottSteve fronted River Rd, a little tame to begin with but he'd turned up the traditional tempo by Jarram Way. Of course, the bridge wasn't far enough for GreatScottSteve, the dip was his target (all this Mt. Beauty stuff has him hunting hills!)   One long drive deserves another and who better to drive it than Kreeky.  All the way to Coach Rd if you don't mind!  

It's become traditional that the shop squad few intercept us at rooster corner, just Wozza and Rocket today joining the line for a tow home (conserving their wattage for tempo Tuesday?) as Bo made his movement toward the highway.  8 degrees was a touch cool but it was a comfort to have a full moon give us some vision beyond the headlight's beam.  Kel and Tina shared the distance to Old Dookie Rd while Emil prepared for his shift west.  We'd be spared a spanking today,  the Giro Della Donna's 131km with 2700 metres of elevation had softened him yesterday.  And soft enough for him to call it quits just shy of School Rd.  The Godfather lapped that up, full throttle (but still with his trademark variables) to Central Ave as some form of payback for Emil's earlier efforts.  (or was the red led's of Vince and the Rabbit causing him the spasms of speed?)  The procession split at Central for approaching traffic, though Pistol captained the pace perfectly to get the dozen back in order for the drive to town. I was getting close to the business end again but fear not Foss, Col had the bit between his teeth to get the speed spicy to SPC. I was spared that second shift after all. 

30/3  Fresh four-play.

Feels like five was a none too subtle reminder that those testing months of winter are near, so the expectation meter was turned way down on the way down to see which Wouldabeens would turn up to Tuesday's grid.  Motivation had only gripped Temple, Jase and Joe (not Tony), the best you could expect from this mob when weather is less than perfect.  (At this rate I'll be riding solo in a couple of weeks!)  Temple chose the Archer Mitchell Coach and Channel circuit and headed the first shift south, not realizing a south southwester (17 km/h) was at work.  Spent at Sanctuary Drive, he retreated rearward.  Jase did the duty to the truck route so I had the third leg to Mitchell ; not bad with a few trees to hide from the wind but a real test out in the open.  I was certainly in Joe (not Tony's) good books handing him the reigns without that wind in his face.  I guess limited time on the bike shortened his shift a little shy of Euroa Rd.  

Temple had time to recover from the breezy baptism of first shift and drive well into Mitchell Rd but Jase was the one with handfuls of horsepower to drag us another two k's east.  He'd set a standard I felt obliged to keep.   The dark didn't help and the eastern end of Mitchell is not so familiar, so aiming at reaching Coach Road was a stab in the dark.  Eventually the reflection from road signs at the main eastern bridge showed the end was nigh, so Joe got my vote to lead us north.  Even with the breeze at his backside he chose a slightly slower speed to River Rd ; Temple diplomatically holding position behind.  There's little to gain denying a guy a turn (even if the speed sinks a little), at least he's out there having a go and not cringing in the caboose.....or snoozing in bed for that matter. (no names inferred or implied!)  Temple carefully wound up the work to Channel Rd, an eye kept on Joe (not Tony) to see that he stayed aboard.  I was expecting that south southwester to throw up some resistance to our path west toward town though Jase set a decent speed to the S bend, it felt more southeasterly when I was given the task of tempo at the front.  Joe (not Tony) was given the lead role at Central Ave and the ChaCha's smoothness didn't do him any favors, speed slowly sinking by Orrvale Rd where Temple took on the task. My job was to guide the northerners homeward through the seven a.m. rush hour.  

31/3  Visitors with velocity.

I hadn't realized it was International Year of Driving into a Southerly.  I'd reckon I'd count on one hand the days it wasn't!  Still, it's good preparation for the Sanctuary speed ; left to my own devices I'd crawl to the start-line then grizzle about the speed (we've had our fair share of that I think!)   By sheer luck I'd drawn last wheel in the line-up as you-know-who started the procession south, so I'd have a long wait in the wings before I'd need full throttle.  

Col, Tina, Bo, PistolPete, Kel, The Godfather Emil and Kreeky were lined up ahead and yet again, I'd got Emil's wheel and energy to deal with.  While Col, Kreeky and The Godfather did their thing I was slowly shuffled up the order, each shift ramping up the effort as the draft slowly diminished.  It might just be better to get the tough stuff over and done with early when you think about it, a bit of torture to begin then a tow all the way home.  (I'll bet it wouldn't turn out that way!)  The Godfather did his fluctuations to the dip so naturally Bo had to equal the effort, a lengthy labor to Coach Rd to go one better.  Eyes were on four southbound lights about to intersect rooster corner as we were due ; it was the shop squad again (Trav, Lance, Boof and Wozza) come to join our party.   Normally joining the rear, a gap was opened to let them in with a truck about to pass us.  Kel put in her two bob's worth toward the bridge but called it quits a little beyond One Tree Dam, Tina made it over the bridges but ended her effort there.  I was mentally ready for Emil's charge but the legs were none too happy with his charge into the forties to the highway, so was somewhat toasted before my turn was started.  It's only 1200 metres to the Boundary Rd channel from the pub but that's all the muscle I could muster.  Preserving pace was paramount so Boof was beckoned to the front to drag the dozen to Old Dookie Rd. I struggled to see who'd taken the captaincy into Old Dookie Rd but the spicy speed narrowed the choice, so it made sense when Wozza peeled off the front at School Rd.  His roll rearward succumbed to the sledges of The Godfather of course.  Lance continues to push his boundaries with the shop squad and did well to keep the pace to Central Ave.  Trav mastered the drive to the truck route without dislodging any crew, Col conversely had heads down to SPC in a fast finish. 

1/4 Therapeutic Thursday.

A prologue 'round the golf course loop is about as riveting as a conversation with Sly but it got a few k's clocked prior to what was likely to be a short Wouldabeens lap. That's if any Woulda's turned up!  A slower spin has proved therapeutic in what seems like a week's worth of riding on the rivet.  Just BamBam and Wendy fronted the roundabout, the course consensus confirming Channel - Boundary and Old Dookie suited all.  A none-too-taxing tap would be my perfect prescription. It may have been a trial for these guys so I'll play fair; who needs more enemies!  BamBam provided the (ample) draft up Archer Rd and across to the truck route so I took note of his tempo to set mine the same when given the job at the front.  Wendy was put in charge to Orrvale Rd, darkness and an unfamiliarity with the course showing as a discomfort in her drive.  I was gifted the svelte surface of the ChaCha for my opening act, how supple our derriere's would become riding this stuff constantly!  (I'll name it as "Beach Rd bum"!)  A sense of doing a decent shift drove me to the cypress trees.  Others may have benefited from a longer tow.  Back into the draft it was a delight to tap along in the midst of zone 3 and not be hurtling along at the hair-trigger of going o.t.a., cussing with a dying breath at whoever was whipping me with their wattage.  This pleasant pace rekindles the passion.....till life at the limit begs again!  (probably tomorrow!) Wendy was guided on the straight and (not so) narrow of Boundary Rd while I waited for the elbow that says "enough", her speed smooth and steady up and beyond the fig farm where I wondered if I'd missed her cue? Maybe she hasn't had the elbow education?  (Rule #3 for those new to this addiction)  At a speed quite shy of supersonic, I could drive the 3 k's of Old Dookie Rd to Central Ave, sneaking the speed up just a tad toward town.  BamBam endorsed the extra effort on his drive to the truck route, the usual swift shift to SPC swapped for a more comfortable and constrained conclusion. 

2/4  Is Friday, is good!

The public holiday Good Friday allowed an extended ride ; the usual Sanctuary spin stayed (although starting at a more civilized 6am) with an intermission at Noble Monks to then start a charitable lap in support of the Royal Children's Hospital Appeal.    The shop squad  (Rocket, Wozza, Liam, Boof, Trav and Nev) with Machine Steve as special guest, joined team Sanctuary (The Godfather, PistolPete, TrekTrev, Tina, Bo, Emil and Grumpy), a bigger congregation than we've had since pre-Covid times.  With that sort of attendance, two rows rotating made more sense, another habit thought lost to the history books.  Surprisingly, speed had settled in the mid 30's, preserving a little holiday atmosphere in the introduction.  That rare chance to ride and chat with a team mate alongside rekindled memories of old, even the big guns like Rocket and Liam were soaking up a relaxed pace.  

Entertainment was, as always, provided free of charge by The Godfather.  (I had the noisiest part of the pack perched on his wheel!)  Missing the starting gun by a minute, Kreeky had used the Channel Rd shortcut to intercept us just as I advanced to do duty over the highway.  Why the work at the front was such a struggle I don't know, but the Boundary Rd bridge was my limit, finding more to match Grumpy for part two of the shift as speed crept into the high 30's wasn't going to last long either.  Grumpy must have heard my gasps, offering an early roll at the fig farm  (Gratefully accepted!)    Plenty of volunteers lined up for their contribution so I could relax and recover in a lengthy tow.  The weekday route was swapped in favor of a Lemnos-Cosgrove, Ford, Wanagnui and Boulevard conclusion, figuring this would make our Noble Monks arrival right on coffee o'clock.  There was a lot of reminiscing on laps of old and the restorative effects of a relaxed roll (could this see the rebirth of the social Saturday smoothie?  Seems consensus has it!) Pace was well behaved on Ford and the entertainment continued to amuse, there was no supersonic sprint on Wanagnui Rd, even the Boulevard was cranked at a form of calm.  A pleasing prologue of 53 k's.

(Panorama photo thanks to Dippa)

The Wouldabeens (Temple, AlmostRetiredTrev, Laura, SuperMario, Goose, YoungJack, Weapon, Gazza and Kenworth), a few Goats, several of the Addams family, a few free agents and one Cat (charitable lot they are!)  assembled for the 8am ride, Machine Steve and I given the task to guide the masses out of town for a Verney, Ford, Lemnos-Cosgrove- Boundary and Channel Rd lap.  

The large Couldabeens contingent had a stranglehold on speed, the pace set at moderate considering a few at the rear would be at their limit.  The tsunami effect of a big bunch is something I haven't missed.  Should I (strangely) thank Covid for forcing the pace-line comfort on most of us?   Blue sky and sunshine as the temperature crept to 16 made a magnificent climate to ride, a treat that wouldn't last much longer unfortunately. The pack worked clockwise on the course with a few brave souls from slower factions venturing forward to contribute, some happily stuck to the caboose for the free tow. 

As some made their way homeward in town, many Couldabeens chose an epilogue of Archer, Mitchell and Raftery Rd's to round out a hundred.  Sledges and speed were on the increase in the southern loop, a little steam blown off in the sprint in Conrod for good measure.

This week 353km    YTD 3,696km