Eau de cooked caboose

 Post #602

5/6  Comfortably numb

Five days into winter and only the hardcore remain. Minus two might have been the reason! A mixed bag assembled at the starting grid,  Diehards Emil, PistolPete, Bo, GreatScottSteve and Greg had a few of the (wilting) Wouldabeens (Superman, Joe (not Tony) and Wendy) join in, all keen to clock some cool k's.  (Too cool for the shop squad to turn up though!)   Building up to PistolPete's speed can be a soul searching experience, slicing through the icy atmosphere at a pace well above the cautious commute makes the very decision to ride a debatable one.  Time to contemplate Rule #5 Foss!  

At least there wasn't a wind to battle.  Emil kept the tempo at a simmer toward Central Kialla but there was a hint of something burning two k's on......eau de cooked caboose.  GreatScottSteve went easy on the accelerator toward River Rd as Superman and Wendy got back aboard. The shift toward the bridge needed a slightly softer speed for ten to stay connected so with a little less effort, I did a little more distance to the dip where Joe (not Tony) was handed the helm.  I was ushered in to eighth wheel on the roll to the rear.  Bo pointed us to the Broken bridges but another disconnection just beyond one tree dam  raised some mid-field questions.  Seeing lights grow smaller behind us u-turned Kreeky, Joe and I to assist, but it wasn't an o.t.a. occurrence, Superman was suffering a slow deflation. This was his third in as many days.....so much for the tubeless tyre argument!  Well armed with CO2, Superman opted for a shortcut to home for repairs and with a big slice of encouragement, Wendy was egged on to continue.  

(Maybe Pistol, Emil, Greg, Bo and GreatScottSteve were waiting at the highway?)  Kreeky set the standard north to the pub but no, we'd been dropped like a cold potato!  So much for one team, one dream!  No matter, the faster would get their fix, the slightly slower content to continue un-cooked. Kreeky settled in for the long haul to Old Dookie Rd, Joe (not Tony) driving the 2300 metres to the Toaster, so my share was playing pilot to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  (A few '51's had the fortitude to ride)  Wendy played her part in proceedings driving a shift to Woolshed Rd, it exonerates the feeling of fare evasion I guess but she'd earned her train ticket just turning up in this temperature.  With a tempo a bit below the usual threshold Kreeky did the distance to Lemnos North Rd which gave plenty of respite to those in the draft.  Joe (not Tony) faced the front in Ford Rd to Grahamvale, sun-up sinking the "feels like" down to minus 4.2.  I'd lost the feeling in fingers and toes anyway!   

Thoughts of hot coffee was probably the only motivating factor for the four at this stage, though we hadn't softened so much as to take a Verney Rd shortcut.  Riding under the red-line allowed this old engine to aim at Mt. Wanganui before handover, Wendy doing her bit to cemetery hill.  Breakfast drove the Boulevard effort to the Butter Factory, musical genes, Worksafe compliance and thermal insulation kept conversation ping-ponging across the table while fingers and toes thawed.  And now for for the hardest part ; getting out into the cold again and back on the bike for the commute home!  The sun's presence eventually put an almost tropical flavor to the way back north, inspiring enough for me to tap another 38 k's back along Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to Pine Lodge then head home on Old Dookie.  Gets a century into the legs and breaks that almost daily ritual of 45. 

7/6  The great divide.

The Sanctuary start-line was a little over populated.  9 degrees was warm enough for the shop squad to turn up, so that swelled the ranks for Monday's 5:40 foray.  I'd lined up with Joe (not Tony) Bo, Kreeky, Kel, The Godfather and Tina when Bruce called a division, the swift (Rocket, Wozza, Emil. PistolPete, Lenny and Greg) could blow out a few cobwebs and the others, by chance occupying the rear grid positions, could avoid being toasted.  A most un-seasonal north northeaster was going to be a test for most of the circuit so maybe that's why Bo volunteered to guide us south to Mitchell Rd?  Guilt must have played on his conscience 'cause he drove the eastern leg to Central Kialla as well as compensation.  The Godfather was the man in the middle pursuing division one (a hundred metres ahead), but the reality of their tempo had him retreat back to us of lesser ranks. At least he donated the tow north to River Rd.  

The battle to the bridge with that wind at the side was the test for Tina, Joe (not Tony) taking the lead role to the dip.  There's a certain pressure to perform arriving at the front, steering a straight (ish) line at a tempo not too testing (but not too tardy either) and going a reasonable distance to earn your keep can be best summarised in The Godfather's mantra "Dont f%@& it up!"  Despite the wind playing havoc at the port-side, it felt easier at the front than midfield trying to hold a line, so even as the white fence of the quarter-horse stud came into view there was still energy left in the old engine.  Let's not get greedy though Foss, the load is best shared.  

How fortunate to have a few biscuits left in the barrel 'cause Kel hit the boost button to rapidly reach rooster corner.  I'd grown accustomed to the acceleration by the time we'd reached Coach Rd, the pace then dialed down a little as Kreeky took on the 20 km/h worth of work into the wind.  (I'd timed my turn to a tee avoiding that one)  Ten out of ten Kreeky, a great drive to the bridges.  Bo was equally energetic to the highway.  Without the shop squad to taunt, The Godfather actually positioned himself perfectly (as a welcome change) to shelter the crew up to Old Dookie Rd and there was just enough east in the now northeaster to help our progress west, Tina and Joe (not Tony) sharing the 2600 metre distance to Central Ave. It was one of those rare laps where a second shift was required,  my usual drive to reach Dobson's bridge was extended onward to the truck route, thanks to the encouragement of the assisting wind. Thankfully, Kel didn't hit the boost button again (cheque's in the mail!), enough in my tank to stay aboard to SPC and through the streets, parting ways as the crew cornered for coffee.

11/6  Rusty.

It's meant to be just like riding a bike......but it wasn't.  I'd already forgotten what it took to keep a reasonable speed to the start-line, a southerly was head on and was already knocking on zone 4's limit.  Three days off the bike (incessant rain and a clean bike didn't compute) and it was like starting all over again!  I'd be hiding in the mid-field ranks when the flag fell this morning. Rocket, PistolPete, Kel, The Godfather, Boof, Wozza, Emil, Bo, Tina, Greg and Joe (not Tony) were keen to get a few k's up after a wet week,  Wozza breaking the PistolPete tradition of first shift with a gentle introduction to the truck route but full steam to Mitchell (that Wozza wattage knows no bounds) Somewhat spent at third wheel, Tina retreated for the cover in the caboose.  

The pack was rather fragmented arriving at Mitchell Rd, but some cohesion came nearer to Central Kialla.  Two lines had formed (and that lessened the tsunami effect), the tailwind to River Rd helping the bakers' dozen stay together.   Just up to speed headed for the bridge, PistolPete called a pause for a puncture, seems to be the season for deflation.  Greg's agenda forced him to continue as others admired Pistol's composed and refined repair, a tiny piece of wire found as the offender.  (Sledges were aimed at Wozz,  the brunt of the blame being at the front when bits broke off the back)   Pace was pegged back a little on the restart, the chat and cackle calming a few concerns it'd be full gas to make up for the pit-stop. 

Trav joined from his clockwise approach at Coach Rd, the memories of my struggle to the start-line now erased with a tail-wind up to the highway.  Good grief, I was on Emil's wheel, again!  (no matter, speed was set at sociable)   A short shift from the highway to the Boundary bridge was enough for part one and a pairing with The Godfather to the fig farm totaled the energy rating for this rusty old one.  The way west to town was a bone chiller as a little west snuck into the southerly, but Rocket warmed us up lifting the tempo into town.  Feels like 1.5 required the internal heating of coffee though! 

This week 195km    YTD 6,349km