Resuming the rush

Post #607

10/7  For Col.

I still expect to hear that laugh or a convoluted yarn, 'banging on' about the virtues of Campagnolo, a quiz of music history or what else goes well with maple syrup (and I though bacon was stretching the taste bud boundaries!).   It's still hard to believe that our Col won't be in the bunch anymore.  

This Saturday pondered those memories. It was kilometres for Col day , a fundraiser ride for Beyond Blue, helping their efforts to fight the Black Dog that plagues a third of the population.   

The Archer St shop car park filled with Couldabeens, Wouldabeens, '51's, a legend or two and a collection of Cats, all at some point captured by Col's charisma.  Point one of a degree was a test of resolve, but Col meant much to many. This was a ride of respect to those memories.  In the interest of familiarity and common sense, bunches of a dozen or so set off separately, spinning the standard Saturday circuit.  I'd collaborated with Joe (not Tony), TrekTrev, SuperMario, Laura, Shorty, Greg, Bo and Wendy while others grouped to follow a little later.  This ride was about the mental health message, not about speed (though I'm sure that would happen later!)  There wasn't much enthusiasm to rush through this temperature anyway.  

This bunch, with a bias of Wouldabeens out of their comfort zone (lower than 15 degrees) meant turns would roll short, but Greg, Bo and Joe (not Tony) would pick up the slack.   It would be a sedate lap but a chance to get up to speed socially.  TrekTrev was the surprise with pace (in light of his rarity riding) but his driving distance suffered shortness.  Are my specs rose colored or is it gradually getting lighter at stupid o'clock?   6:07 in River Rd and I reckon the eastern sky looked a fraction lighter than jet black.  Maybe I'm just optimistic? Wendy chose to roll through but shied from a drive at the front, Shorty's been trying to keep up the k's but early starts and late finishes at work aren't helping (Fitness goes into neutral with just the weekend to tune up).   Bo relished the relaxed tempo but nature was calling him to halt as we neared Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  He managed to find what he was looking for in minus 1.3 while the rest honored the privacy and went light on the throttle ahead. 

The pre-dawn light revealed a fog to forge through, the huffs and puffs of those working the front looking like steam trains under load.  There were a few nervous glances behind when we'd reached Ford Rd in expectation of being swallowed up the faster factions.  Duty in the drivers seat certainly came 'round quickly in a group of nine but a tempo less than flat chat made it most manageable (for some of us).  Funny how the priorities shift from the ride to breakfast as you near town, mind you the temperature (or lack of it) played a big part.  Anything to warm the engine shifted focus.  Wanganui Rd inspired all to come forward and make an appearance at the front, with just seven k's left in the lap I guessed most realized what was left in the tank.  The faster factions had caught and passed on the turn into Rudd Rd and with appropriate sledges delivered, drew gradually into the distance.  

The legs would have done it but the head didn't have the hurry, the chill factor as the sun came up confined us just to cruise in.    All the clans combined though at the Butter Factory for the comfort of coffee and banana bread (donated to the cause), the countless prizes gifted by local business drawn for the lucky ones.  A lot of background work by Kel, Rob, BamBam, the "pedestrian peloton" and BaristaChris along with a big raffle and great public support netted $13,087:70 for the cause.  Importantly, it's kept the mental health conversation out of the dark. 

With the day's success, what Col meant to us all and to keep the conversation of mental health going, this ride is likely to become an annual event.   

11/7  Tour'n Toolamba.

A forecast wet week tempted a Sunday spin, normally my sabbath but there's that bait to keep the k's up isn't there?  But why suffer in the dark and cold yet again?  (It's all we've been doing for a month or more!)  Sunshine and double digit temperatures at 11am  seemed so civilized, I can't remember when I last rode without a headlight!  Scenery other than the standard circuit was on the wish list too, so south to tour Toolamba gave some impetus (oh, and a strengthening north northeaster to blow me there helped too)!  It was hard to break the habit of umpteen layers of insulation so a single base layer felt almost like riding naked.  I was relying on the psychological warmth of the sun, strangely visible.  (couldn't quite come at the short knicks though, ye olde knees creak below 12 degrees!)  

There's little traffic to contend with riding at stupid o'clock so today was a re-introduction to sharing the tarmac with Sunday's drivers.  All was well with the world down the Murchison Rd but there's almost always a tax to pay for anything enjoyable, that wind would make work for the way home.  Turning east to Toolamba was the introduction, 10% wiped off the tempo and 20% more effort put in to maintain it, serious doubts questioned the stability of the course designer.  (Oh, that's me!)  Always better to have a tailwind home but I'd earn my lunch for the 30 k's back to town today.  Ascending Mt Toolamba's lofty 2.6 metres got me off the Fizik and into the township, thankfully missing peak hour.  

There's some shelter on the east side toward the old timber bridge so once ridden to and walked across (plank gaps would swallow a wheel whole!) I had that wind trying to blow me backward from then on.  Across the highway presented the backside breaker, Union Rd's coarse coat of stone and tar laid over the corrugations dampened the speed and pounded the posterior. The smooth surface of Central Kialla Rd was in stark contrast, though it was tempting to rest the chin on the headstem to fight the now north northeaster for the return.  

Rather than pondering the miserable pace, the six k's up to Mitchell Rd was spent mentally scanning the Butter Factory's menu.  (I was burning the calories to make room for it!)  Now, where was that passing fleet of trucks to tow me? Arriving at Mitchell took the wind off the nose but put it in the right ear headed to the highway.  The gradual steer toward north on Raftery Rd was the four k's to empty the tank (if only to maintain a respectable speed), the vapor left just enough to drive the main street into town to the lunch table.

12/7  Blame Bo!

Bang! Back to reality Monday.  Dark and cold was a slap in the face from yesterday.  An east northeaster was going to dish up some distress from Mitchell to Old Dookie Rd and there'd be no hiding from it.  The 10 k's of tail wind to the start-line was like being short-changed!   The grid of PistolPete, Tina, Emil, Rocket, Bruce, Bo, Wozza, Kel, Kreeky and Joe (not Tony) lined up at the roundabout and JJ had made a brief visit to the flat-lands from his whirlwind tour of the country.  Pain suffered sooner would be better than later, so I braved second wheel to PistolPete as he wound up the hurry south.   I was all psyched up beyond the truck route, ready to take on the hard metres into Mitchell Rd's wind when JJ collected some local flora (a bindii) and punctured.  What ride is without one these days? 

With Kel's eagle eye and JJ getting a diploma in wheel fitting, we were off again soon after to polish off Archer Rd, but PistolPete hadn't had enough and took on a second shift to Central Kialla (I'll send him a cheque!)  I'd inherited the drive north to River Rd but that wind had swung a little more northerly (just my luck!) so it was down to wringing out all the watts I could to cover the 2 k's respectably.  (An oncoming truck almost blew me back a week!)  Rocket's ease of acceleration to River Rd's bridge meant I could catch the tail and Wozza breathed a sigh of relief retiring rearward at the dip 'cause nobody had gone o.t.a.  Bo put heads down with the crew stacked across the black stuff in search of shelter but Tina's grip on the wheel ahead was slipping.  (There's a whole lot of drama when your head's given up holding on.  The legs would have done it but it's too late when the will won't drive them!)  

Rocket and Wozza became Tina's safety net while Bo backed off the gas and bore the brunt of the blame.  JJ was diplomatic in his drive to Rooster corner; he'll be welcomed back.  The north northeaster had little effect on Emil heading to One Tree Dam (the pot-holes are fixed but a layer of gravel continues the caution)  Bruce kept the tempo smooth and steady over the highway to Old Dookie Rd but Tina wrestled with the enthusiasm to continue.  A liberal coating of encouragement was applied to keep her aboard and a little slice off the speed helped her headspace.  

13/7  Bigfoot's back!

The regret would ruin the day.  Not riding crossed my mind several times as the alarm chimed at stupid o'clock, maybe lethargy from riding nine days in a row was emptying enthusiasm but I'd be kicking myself all day if I didn't feed the addiction.  Rain looked likely to lie me low over the next few days anyway.   Regulars Bruce, Emil, PistolPete, Bo, Wozza, Rocket, Kel and Boof swarmed Sanctuary Drive.  JJ returned for a second serve of the flat stuff.  5:40 struck for the train to steam south but Hark! what light through yonder southern scenes breaks?  The Godfather (aka Bigfoot) made his triumphant return.  The entertainment was back!  

Boof caught the last carriage as you-know-who led us to Mitchell Rd.  Being eighth in a line of ten blessed me with plenty of breathing time before the huff and puff at the business end.  Rocket as Act 2 kept the effort on an escalator, the agenda set in stone as Wozza dragged us to River Rd.  Kreeky arrived from the north in Central Kialla, a last minute change to the wet weather bike might just put the mozz on us!  Emil headed the charge to the bridge, the breeze evident from the northeast if I strayed a little left of Bo's wheel.  Kel championed the cause to the dip.  Reserves were dwindling closer to the front as the aerodynamics thinned, Bo's body language showing the strain pushing the last two k's to rooster corner.  Time to prepare for punishment ; my shift was next.  Common sense said set the speed to sustainable, but the competitive curse kicked in when 'comfortable' showed only 34, the push to 37 more like pulling my weight's worth (even if it killed me to reach the Broken bridges)   My elbow said duty done, but memories of last week's whippin' by Wozza flashed across the pre-frontal cortex, thankfully it was Kreeky taking command next, at the same speed.  

The Godfather was a bit out of tune after a week off two wheels (burdened by a big foot) so sledges came thick and fast at the Boundary bridge when he retreated to the rear early.  I'm sure I caught Wozza and Rocket licking their lips!  PistolPete captained us to Old Dookie Rd.  There's something about heading west that triggers a rush of blood to the head (and a rush of watts to the back wheel)  Is it to end the effort sooner?  Cross the finish line first? (if there was a finish line!)  Maybe to cure the caffeine craving?  Today it may have been about giving The Godfather grief!  It had turned Christmas for Wozza to serve up the speed to Central Ave, the silence from second last wheel (go on, you figure it out) was serene.  Across the intersection, the tsunami effect of Rocket resuming the rush was the straw that broke The Godfather (PistolPete went back to his rescue).   Rocket was now the kid in the candy store leading the hurry into town. 

Across the truck route my memory flickered ; Col would have launched a sprint to SPC about now.  And there'd be ice cream, pancakes (and maple syrup) as his reward.  Great memories. 

Rain stopped play for the remainder of the week  (so less banter to wade through this time!)

This week 200 km   YTD   7,537 km