The brink of Boom!

 Post #605

26/6  Social swapped for speed.

A starting grid heavily weighted with horsepower painted a picture of pace, and that got me craving for a position more rearward than forth wheel.  Pop another concrete pill Foss!, I'd at least scored The Godfather's wheel instead of Emil's!  A hint of a west northwester chilled the right ribs so my predicted turn at the business end in River Rd would have some assistance (yep, I'd already guessed PistolPete taking us to Mitchell Rd, Emil to Central Kialla and The Godfather up to River Rd) but the thought of the work on the west way home later wasn't worth thinking about ; the negatives would have me throw in the towel before I'd even faced the front!   It was reassuring to have Lance on my wheel, us senior citizens need to stick together (these young guys have no respect for their elders!)  Predictions panned out perfectly as Boof arrived late in Central Kialla from the north, my two k drive to River Rd's bridge would be plenty at this pace (forties had become fashionable)  

Bo had drawn the whip in the drivers seat to keep the pace up toward Rooster corner, but the horse was almost dead shy of a k into his shift ; maybe his beer diet is to blame?  That got The Godfather's sledges started.  Lenny made up for the discrepancies with a spirited drive to Coach Rd.  I'd stupidly glanced at the heart-rate, banging on zone five's door while third last wheel was worth ignoring! (I'll bet I wasn't Robinson Crusoe though)  The social stuff would have to wait till coffee time, there was work to do today (and a lot of it was just to hang on)   So why do we do it?  The spirit of teamwork?  Proving something to oneself? (or maybe others?) Maybe because it feels great when you stop!  

Greg proved himself a worthy newcomer driving to Coach Rd while I prepared to suffer the speed of Rocket, Wozza and GiantAndy at the front, conveniently line astern to triple the torment.  Of course, The Godfather's sledges only spiced up the speed!  Puddles were pointed at in the blur of Boundary Rd's tarmac, the air heavy with moisture from an earlier fog dampening everything.....but speed.  East to the Toaster and north to the church, the though of fighting the wind back to town wasn't so inviting, hanging on to the hurry was becoming increasingly difficult.  Legs were tiring, lungs labored and we won't mention the heart-rate will we?  My mental meter was barely recording the crumbs of the toast and Vegemite put in the tank two hours prior.  

Something keeps you going though, stubbornness, stupidity or the shame of going o.t.a?  Another turn was due at the front soon, the sense of duty overpowering the sense of exhaustion.  The slow for the Lemnos North intersection at least gave a few seconds of respite before it was due.  Maybe a hint of shelter helped the hurry?  I'd managed a reasonable turn of pace for a k but little was left to drive further, so handed over the hurt for Lance to enjoy.  I had an urgent appointment at the back with breathing!  Plenty of power was ahead of me to get a tow back to breakfast, I just hope the excitement of seeing Wanganui Rd didn't incite a sprint.  Wish granted, but Rocket hunger for breakfast led to a hurry on the Boulevard.    Who's spending the big bucks, garden art and Bo's beer diet made the noise at the Butter Factory's table as a little more drizzle dampened the outdoors.  Bike cleaning day yet again!

28/6  The wind that wasn't.

It was at least a 27 km/h wind fair in the face! Scotty was hollering "I'm givin' her all she's got captain!" and still the Garmin would barely touch 36.  Kel had dragged me to River Rd's bridge and I was almost inside-out to reach the dip.  A bad case of Monday-itis maybe? Possibly a deficiency of concrete in the diet?  PistolPete had no drama with pace to Mitchell Rd and Emil nudged the forties to Central Kialla (of course!), Bruce made the north drive to River Rd look easy and Kel's no slouch. I'll have to chat to my 'supplement' supplier!  After much masochism I eventually reached the dip (a snail may have been faster), handed the lead to Tina and retired to the rear despondent with the drive.  

Tina did a great turn to the quarter horse gates and Wozza drove carefully to Coach Rd to avoid busting bits off the back.  (Still felt like a sentence of hard labor to me!)  Greg became captain north toward the highway, the easterly now more evident with the change of direction easier (though the echelon wasn't that extreme)  Must be Monday-itis.  Joe (not Tony) was given driving duty at the bridges but his legs weren't co-operative, his maiden voyage into the Strathbogie hills at the weekend had worn a lot of wattage away.  The Godfather donated his services at Channel Rd then generously continued the cause up to Old Dookie.  (Bruce kindly headed the echelon that The Godfather didn't)  PistolPete started his second shift west toward Central Ave and with Emil, Bruce and Kel still to serve I'd guessed I'd escape facing the front again.  Staying aboard took priority as Pistol packed some clout to Central Ave, Emil of course continuing the cruelty to the truck route.  Just as well Bruce took us to town 'cause I had nothing to contribute.  And that nasty easterly I felt earlier?  The bureau recorded it at 2 to 7 km/h.  Gutted!  Finding 60 psi in the rear tyre later said "There's the problem!" 

29/6  Serve chilled. 

What makes it a struggle to stay at 30 to the start line but then drive a turn in the high 30's for a couple of k's five minutes later?  The answer to that, how long a piece of string is and tomorrows lottery numbers to follow!  It says a lot for the motivation a bunch brings though.  Emil and I had come upon Greg fixing his first puncture on the way to Sanctuary's roundabout (note; your spare tube should have a valve stem long enough for your 50mm rim Greg!) so Emil drove on to put a hold on the start line till repairs were done.  Greg and I joined the parade as PistolPete led the line into the roundabout, so I was straight down to business in second wheel.  Who else was in the procession would be told in time.  It's a little daunting to drive second, especially to follow up on Pete's pace, but it's probably best to jump straight in the deep end without too much thought.  What could possibly go wrong?  Going o.t.a. with just 3 of the 30 k's done?  

Overcoming the bite of 1 degree was the biggest battle, it felt like Jack Frost had my lungs in the Heimlich manoeuvre.  I won't bang on with the usual poetry of the toil at the front but I got to Central Kialla, grateful to Greg for his slow build-up of speed to River Rd.  Bruce, Wozza and Rocket made the journey to Coach Rd a quick one and like yesterday, an easterly wore away my watts in the attempt to stay aboard. I'd prepared for the hurt Emil might dish up in Coach Rd but was surprised as he peeled off the front at the bridges.  Bo braved the front in Boundary Rd and got a bit beyond the bridge before calling it quits (and didn't that invoke the wrath of The Godfather!)   Boof and Kel kept the speed simmering, even BamBam had crawled out of obscurity to put in a (short) shift north.  I'd changed down a gear to prepare the legs and taken a few big breaths in readiness as PistolPete let loose in Old Dookie, though sitting on that smoothness made the tempo tolerable.  Only when slicing the air myself did the real effort sink in.  Dobson's bridge had to be the aim (if I didn't blow a head gasket before getting there), so good on ya Bruce for taking over to tow the team to town ; left to me it would have been at snails' pace. 

30/6  Swerv'n Skippy.

A solo commute to the start was a rare thing (carrying the news of Emil's valve malfunction) so  a couple of k's off the usual pace was almost like a holiday.  Boof, Lenny, Bruce, PistolPete, Bo, The Godfather, Kel, Greg, Tina, Lance, Laura, Joe (not Tony) and Rocket's arrival proved the social Wednesday thing has fueled plenty of enthusiasm in Winters' gloom.  Emil arrived barely a minute late, PistolPete setting the wheels in motion to the truck route.  

You know it's Wednesday when chat gets underway in the first kilometre!  Maybe the slightly slower pace drew Bo forward to form the advance line?  Wheels of choice were chosen (there's hardly ever a mix of divisions is there?  Almost without fail the A's B's and C's congregate together.  Comfort within the classes?)  and two lines toured south to Mitchell and pointed east.  I'd berthed between Kel and Lance in the advance line on River Rd but there was work to do at the front, that incessant easterly was at us again (manageable at the Wednesday tempo, murder any other day!)   Just up to speed in Coach Rd a caution was called, three 'roos bounding at the roadside weren't welcome in the bunch.  Instinctively, eyes strained the dark sidelines for their mates. (thankfully none)   

The seasonal downturn in tarmac quality is beginning to show, already early signs of a few pot-holes are lurking to ruin a tyre or wheel.  Trick is to find them in the dark! I'd convinced Laura to come out of the caboose and slip into the smoothness midfield, free from the whiplash effect at corners and intersections.  The Godfather relished reminding division one of the Wednesday cap on pace but that was ripped from the rule book when a wind at the backside stirred the speed in Old Dookie, it was almost back to the usual weekday hurry to town but no complaints were lodged. 

 

1/7 Light duties.....noice!

A fraction less fast cast a calm on Thursday....there's something about winter that throws a blanket on speed, let alone the urge to get out of bed!  With no qualms about breaking the Sanctuary squad habit, the lure of a lap with Tina, Emil and Kim was hard to resist ; a little respite from what sometimes seems a lot of weekday work.  Congregating at the shop found the surprise additions of Kel and Bo.  Thursday was hump day of the year and had painted Channel Rd dark, damp and dismal, the atmosphere like soup to push through. At least the company was co-operative.  

Emil elected himself first to face the front and that usually set the tempo for the lap ; if others are able and obliging.  His long drive to reach Orrvale school could have cooked Kim though. (It's that second wheel syndrome thing. A draft of five might have been a better introduction?)  To Kim's credit, she had a go. (elephant stamp for effort)  Tina took to the ChaCha while I waited in the wheel for my time to come.  I could have chosen a better draft though, Bo's co-efficient of drag would be four-fold!  

Facing the front at the Kinder was a breathtaking baptism, tougher than I though to cut through the 100% humidity though reaching the cypress trees wasn't going to burst a boiler.....but I was happy to hand the helm to Bo by then. He agreed when retiring from duty at the S bend, it was like pushing through porridge.   Kel had no drama to polish off Channel Rd.  Round two started on the journey north with Emil driving the distance to Boundary's bridge and beyond, but that had tested Kim's tenacity where a halt was called to halt her light-headedness at the fig farm. Good decision Kim, the best rides are the upright ones!  A few moments were taken to restore the balance, common sense and consensus changing our course to head to town via Old Dookie at a steady tap.  It's been a while since finishing a turn at the front with enough breath left to talk!

2/7  Cooked by the Croatian. 

A northeaster blew the fog about on Friday, just to remind us of the joys of winter.  Bo, Kel, PistolPete, Kreeky, Joe (not Tony), Tina, Bruce, Rocket, Wozza, BamBam, Emil and Lenny must crave these conditions, lining up for the spin at Sanctuary Drive.  I'm having a rubber stamp made up for the first on duty to Mitchell Rd (no prizes for guessing!), the breeze up the bum spiking the Garmin graphs early for many.  Bo was looking for an advance line to form but a dozen had glued themselves Indian file behind PistolPete ; nobody wanted to pair for pain, the wind (10-17 km/h) would give grief all the way to Old Dookie Rd.   

Lenny was first to suffer to Central Kialla.    Kreeky's comeback was a dive into the deep end, the drive north to River Rd a nasty north northeaster at the nose for two k's.  Shifts shortened in River Rd as the wind shifted a little more easterly, my promotion toward the front drawing near as Kel finished her contribution at the quarter horse gates for Bo to take us to Coach Rd. (There's no getting out of this Foss, time to take some suffering for the good of the squad and into the wind it was!)  This wasn't time for heroics, a turn to the Broken bridges was all that was in my tank.  Running on empty just shy of the first bridge I handed over to Wozza, but in a Mt. Vesuvius moment (almost all week off the bike had built up a head of steam to blow off) turned up the watts toward the highway.  I dug the depths of desperation to catch Bo's wheel at the back ; thankfully he'd heard the growling bear and dropped a couple of k's so I'd get his slipstream, so the scene turned suddenly blurry as I wrung the engine's neck in a bid to avoid an o.t.a. moment.  Fifty metres of torture and I'd caught the draft of a dozen.  

Wasn't I delighted Bruce had turned down the torture beyond the highway, I could breath my way back from the brink of Boom! and prepare for a guaranteed swift spin along Old Dookie.  That northeaster would now be friend, not foe.   Wozz conveyed his apologies as he rolled to the rear, I concur on his craving to get back into it, besides, a dose of labor at the limit is a good thing. The reality is there's more in reserve than the head reckons.   A damp and slippery road had polka dotted us with roadworks mud, formerly clean bikes now looking like cyclo-cross contenders.  Ain't winter wonderful!  Joe (not Tony) took us to Old Dookie Rd, and as the wind favored the forties,  Rocket, PistolPete and Lenny turned up the tempo toward town.  

This week  280 km    YTD 7,046 km