Taming the ticker.

Post #603

12/6  Damp road, dark, cold breeze, drizzle......good mates, great ride!

A wet forecast Friday night turned dry at stupid o'clock Saturday morning and an invite to join Tina, Jen, Emil and Kim for a spin (a little slower than supersonic) added more enthusiasm.  8 degrees and a light northwester was a bonus, a stark contrast to last Saturday's minus bone-chiller.  Joe (not Tony) arriving at the shop balanced the genders and evened the numbers and with many away for the long weekend the feeling of abandoning the Sanctuary squad barely scratched the conscience.  Indian file was the unspoken but accepted formation, Emil taking charge of the tempo first into Channel Rd.  I wonder if The Godfather's mantra was barking in his ear?   Yep, I was on Emil's wheel again! (a trustworthy one at least)  Handed the lead at Orrvale Rd the road was dry under the tree's canopy but semi-gloss on the ChaCha's surface, so the tyres were throwing a little water to polka-dot the kit. 

Avoiding those puddles that irrigate the nostrils is the trick!  That northwest breeze was probably assisting the travel toward Boundary Rd, through the S bend and something in the darkness went Whack! under the wheel ; cue sudden sphincter palpitations.  (Nothing but a discarded plastic bottle conveniently left on the apex)  One and a half moments later, Tina hollered a halt for a deflating tyre.  

(Emil came to the mechanical rescue)  All this new fangled disc brake stuff and here's a bike without a lever at the end of the skewer!   An Allen key instead!  (Go on, call me out-of-date) With all that and a cotton Specialized tyre that needs levering back on, Tina's talking tubeless!  (Where does it all end)  Hat's off to Emil's efforts, we were back in motion albeit a bit beyond the 3 minute expectation but that's the price paid for technology I suppose.  Jen's been a stranger to the squad for a few weeks but had no problem putting the power down at the front, Kim showing ever increasing improvement too.  Those drops of H2O were now coming from above as well so eyes strained into the dark horizons for ominous clouds while thoughts searched for the shortest route home (should a soaking dictate it).  

It was touch-and-go passing the pork palace but those drops eased by the Toaster.  Joe (not Tony's) persistence is paying off, diligence to the Sanctuary speed has seen his engine tuned to a higher speed.  Tina took the lead into Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, the breeze less laborious than I'd imagined, each doing their donation to the drive with the urgency probably fueled by the thoughts of breakfast and the social stuff at the end.  Emil went long range to Lemnos North Rd and Joe (not Tony) to Grahamvale so I contracted the distance disease driving to Mt. Wanagnui, mid thirties being my happy place, just a k or two quicker and I'd be short shifting.  It's a fine line between boom and bust eh?  A bit of broken glass chicanery on the Boulevard and I could almost smell breakfast, Joe (not Tony) departed on a family agenda, the remainder Butter Factory bound.   Lycrack, pilfering and when parents crack made the cafe chat.   

14/6  The Bells-Armstrong syndrome.

"Who's riding tomorrow?" was posted with a degree of trepidation.  What wattage would turn up? Who was still in town on a long weekend?  Would there be a great divide between the fast and not-so-fast? Would anybody respond? It would be a lucky dip.  And the silence was almost deafening!  Emil was keen and BamBam said yep.......well, I'd at least have Emil as company.  A 6:30 start was civilized and I'd broken the same-old-circuit habit suggesting the camel farm loop.   (BamBam was a no show at the golf course of course)  Blessed with a mild 9 degrees and barely a breeze to battle, that long stretch of tarmac east to the Cosgrove quarry was about as exciting as an appointment with an accountant (no offence meant Greendawg!)    

Maybe it was the woes of winter that hampered any hurry in this old engine?  Poor Emil must have thought he was out on a drive with Uncle Walter in the Datsun 120Y at 76 km/h down the freeway!  I think my conscience had the handbrake on ; there's a whole different mindset to riding 70 k than the usual 40 k thrash.  Emil's empathy came to the fore swapping turns in the low 30's, a feeling of pushing into a breeze not helping my outlook to reach Quarry Rd.  Should I bank on a breeze behind for the return to town?  (You know what'd happen if I did!)  I got well into the zone climbing Mt. Cosgrove's lofty 3 metre ascent overshooting Quarry Rd,  but a u-turn fixed that.  It did feel a fraction easier headed south but east on Kellows Rd to the camel farm turned the effort up again.  Turns were being swapped a little different today, second wheel took the incentive of overtaking rather than first wheel flapping an elbow when spent.  It puts the pressure on getting the timing right ; the sound of two wheels coming alongside was like music to a soul suffering at the front!  

The slight ups and downs on Caniambo Rd knocked the speed around a tad but my head was preparing for the numbing that Bells and Armstrong brings.  (Memories of my maiden voyage along it's mundane length into a hot northeaster still cause palpitations but today was the polar opposite with a cool breeze behind)  You can't change the fact this road is still a water worn dirt track with a thin topping of stone and tar.  24 minutes of constant uninterrupted cadence is good to teach the legs a thing or two.  I was on the zone 4 limit in the drivers seat but at second wheel those numbers weren't dropping much anymore, and Emil must have made an effort 'cause I couldn't hear him snoring!   Ten minutes of that routine and the road slowly widened from it's thin two metre width, another 10 minutes worth and the surface slowly smoothed.  Doesn't that lift the spirits!  Coach Rd appeared beyond the Main Eastern Channel as a familiar path to town so we'd almost turned on the auto pilot reaching Old Dookie Rd.  Of course there's a squeeze of the throttle toward SPC ; can't have anything in the tank at the end can we!  The coffee tastes better that way I reckon.

18/6  Like diving in the deep end!

Three days off the bike may well have been three months!  With the throttle wide open I could barely hit the mid thirties and that played a mental toll on the commute to Sanctuary's start-line with Boof and Emil, I had to sit in the slipstream to tame the ticker below 165 bpm!  Doesn't take too long for this old engine to go out of tune.  Bo, Bruce, Tina, Greg, PistolPete, Kreeky, Wozza, Kel, Rocket and The Godfather lined up on the glossy grid, the overnight damp making a slippery circuit for 13 to negotiate.  Pistol turned up the pace on the dark, slick journey south while I wondered if I could hang on for the distance or even brave a turn, but strangely, it felt great to back on the bike.  Two lines formed with the horsepower congregated at the front (as usual) so being almost at the back gave me some time to harden up before facing the business end.  Puddles were being pointed at, not that avoiding them would keep the bike and kit clean (that was was already on the weekend to do list) but it might just save a face-full of water for the guy or gal behind.  

I was in denial that the steering felt fuzzy, a damp road can alter the sense of road-holding instantly but a spongy sensation grew stronger nearing Central Kialla.  Yep, a puncture it was, and what perfect cold, damp and dark conditions to have it!  At least the front tyre was the easier chore.  Kel's eagle eye found the offending sliver of glass embedded among the grit covering the Michelin so there was satisfaction the culprit was found.  (far better than agonizing over a mystery deflation)  Another tube and a dose of CO2 got me underway again ; now to shut out the doubt of a further flat! (the CO2's lack-lustre 85 psi doesn't help)  Emil kindly towed me back aboard after the fumble in the dark to engage the cleats, The Godfather's entertainment a distraction from deliberating deflation.  

The advance line felt a little warmer on River Rd, that north northeaster was chilling the ribs on the port-side.  Pairing with The Godfather at the front in Coach Rd went well but that wind was wearing away wattage by the Broken bridges so I relented and called an early roll.  Matching Emil's eagerness a 100 metres later was out of the question, I'd stuck to the speed but his standards were far faster.  Tina braved a pairing with him at the front but she was distanced at Channel Rd, Joe (not Tony) then put to the test (he ducked for the draft at the highway)   Kreeky, Wozza and Boof got the tempo back in order.  The way west on Old Dookie Rd had several on caution with reports of a chasing dog at large, the dark, damp road didn't paint a pleasant picture either.  Some comfort came with passing traffic and there's a degree of safety in the numbers of a bunch.   Even in the draft I struggled with speed, though the city's lights grew brighter so it would slow soon.  There'll need to be some k's consumed next week to find form again.

This week 169km       YTD 6,519km