Factional farnarkling.

Post #611

18/9  Just a few.....and a 'roo or two.

Your heart sinks as 6am is about to strike and just three others are on the starting grid.  Get ready for a sentence of hard labor Foss, none of this soft social Saturday stuff!  That would have to wait for an hour and twenty minutes; forty five k's worth of work was on the roster first. PistolPete and Emil would keep the pot boiling but I found some comfort with Lance as part of the quartet - he's my vintage.  Emil and I had heart rates well prepared from a close encounter with a kangaroo on the commute to Sanctuary Drive, though PistolPete always commences leg one to the truck route with compassion.  Mr Masochist is revealed on leg two to Mitchell Rd!   I'd scored Emil's wheel as the procession formed and Lance (by seniority?) chose the caboose.  

The northwester helped the journey to Mitchell Rd but PistolPete (possibly underwhelmed?) chose to stay on as captain to Central Kialla.....then added two more k's of tempo to River Rd.  ('Cause he can)   Emil's engine wasn't running on all cylinders today, I think last night's brewery session had flooded the carburettor!  He still managed to drive a four k shift in River Rd, but I wasn't bouncing off the rev limiter to hold his wheel for a change!  I could feel the breeze at the backside portside for the first half k when given the drivers seat, trees lining the left of the road to rooster corner seemed to cancel that effect though.  Three headlights had appeared in the distance to drive toward ; the shop squad had a poor showing too (the brewery to blame for that too!) so Bruce, Lenny and GiantAndy were our saviors to reduce the workload, but not reducing the speed.  

Apologies were delivered to Lance, handing him the headwind in Coach Rd wasn't showing much respect for your elders but it came down to luck of the draw I guess.  Lance labored to One Tree Dam under the strengthening northwester and elected Pistol back to the captaincy, the Indian filed line of seven forging on toward the highway.  My mental calculations were well underway ;  Emil would probably drive on to Old Dookie Rd and I could make use of a bit of that wind behind along Old Dookie, I'd retreat to the caboose with some sense of teamwork done and be towed by six others for a fair way back toward town in shelter from the wind.  (Thinking this way too much Foss!)  Emil's body language spoke of struggle at Boundary Rd's fig farm, beer and that breeze at the brow taking the edge of his usual energy, though to his credit, determination and a good measure of pig-headedness kept the throttle wide open to reach Old Dookie Rd.  Saved me the hurt of the headwind - cheque's in the mail Emil!  

The luck of getting two turns with prevailing winds said I should do a decent drive in compensation, so set my target at the Toaster 3 k ahead.  Forty was feasible given the circumstances but experience told me I'd be out of steam by the pork palace at that pace, so sticking to high thirties might get me to the aim without throwing a conrod. That short and oh-so-subtle rise with 500 metres to go had the engine at the red-line.  The drive to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd was like falling off a log for Lenny, 700 km a week might have something to do with it!  It became GiantAndy's job to take us west and the relentless wind had no effect on that engine, so lots of happy souls tucked into the draft as he turned up the torque toward Boundary Rd.   Three k's worth of work was a bit lack-lustre for the lad (thirty years my junior) so he continued the shift another three k's to Lemnos North Rd.  

Equally energetic, Bruce was the driver in Ford Rd but my sympathies went out to Lance hanging on to the speed ; the likelihood of being toasted by tempo multiplies rapidly in second wheel.  I'm sure Bruce was just making a decent contribution and his fair share to Numurkah Rd but Lance stayed stuck to his wheel when Bruce retired rearward at Wanganui Rd.  PistolPete's turn again and that wind wasn't letting up.  It must have been strong 'cause Pistol had called it quits at DECA's test track (Quit is rarely in his dictionary)   Emil rose to the occasion to tow us to Rudd Rd (to hell with the hangover!) and I'd won wind assistance yet again for a southern spin to Canterbury roundabout.  Third time lucky!

It felt almost illegal to sit at the Butter Factory for breakfast after weeks of car-park conversation ; talk on Garmin complexities and motorbike madness had entertainment thrown in from Hoges when he dropped by for a latte 'traveller'

21/9  An ice-cream headache, without the ice-cream :(

Two lights on the Boulevard meant it was squirrel day (a secret spin, slightly slower than Sanctuary speed with Emil and Kim) or maybe I was seeing double?  The lack of temperature may have frozen the retinas!  Something somewhat sedate would suit today, softness had taken hold after a sleep-in Monday (rain) so a gentle introduction to the week suited well.  It was Kim and Emil, not my old eyes playing tricks.  The standard squirrel circuit applied (Channel, Boundary, Lemnos-Cosgrove, Ford and Verney) and that would give us heaven on the way out and hurt on the way back in, twenty k's worth of westerly was there not just to help and hinder but to cool our heels (and other body parts) at feels like minus two point six.  

Setting the tempo was my task taking the first shift in Channel Rd ; too slow and there'd be snoring, too fast and there'd be that "hell hath no fury" thing .....something in the order of winning friends and influencing people would do.  I took a guess at thirty four to the truck route and crossed my fingers.  It scored a "nice one" from Emil and a grin from Kim.  And so the shifts swapped east toward Boundary Rd, sublimely helped by the westerly, while the hardening-up process got underway for the return.  

Kim's shifts are steadily strengthening and lengthening, dedication during lock-down is paying her back. I was handed the reigns again at the cypress trees but felt a little greedy commanding the lead to the end of Channel but I doubt Emil's engine would suffer bearing north.  He drove the distance to a bit beyond Old Dookie and convinced Kim to continue to New.  My turn up to Lemnos-Cosgrove scored a bit of shelter from the elements, Emil settling in for the long haul west and with Kim on his wheel it would be a long one....if he remembered which side his bread was buttered!  He's either in the bad books or just loves butter ; to Lemnos North Rd wasn't enough, the drive went on to Grahamvale and beyond.  Verney Rd would be more than enough Emil, but all the way into town was in his sights too.   No argument from me, I'll take the tow when it's free.

22/9  Two tribes.

As we rolled away from the Sanctuary start line I was all psyched up to do my pace-line bit through Central Kialla (wasn't I brave sitting in third wheel behind Emil) but an advance line formed beside me.  Oh, it's social Wednesday isn't it! Rocket, Boof, Wozza, Bruce and Lenny had joined with PistolPete, Greg, Bo, Kel, Joe (not Tony), Kreeky, The Godfather and Emil to combine Couldabeens tribes.  What was going to be swift and single file turned to two rows to tattle.  Stress and sweat swapped for for social sentences.  Aren't we lucky to have different tribes of tempo within the clan that remain as one socially.  None of that factional farnarkling in this family! (Go on, Google it!  update your Aussie cultural education)  

With my mindset off the rivet and into relaxation, Rocket and Bruce kept the pace capped in the mid thirties.  The post mortem of Tuesday's chase was detailed by The Godfather, ti bikes was the banter with Bo and holidays was the yarn with Kreeky.  A cursory glance at the Garmin confirmed the ceiling of thirty five was being stuck to.  This riding in daylight caper is rather infectious, it only seems like last week when we were charging around in the dark and daylight arrived somewhere about mid-morning.  Rooster corner was silent again and I was now in the advance line, Boof ahead and Emil behind (sandwiched by speed) but there was no stress, the social standards would be upheld.  Wouldn't they?  Bo and Kel paired to the highway and Boof advanced in Boundary, Kel alongside to the bridge.  

Pace had crept up a bit beyond the standard, though there wasn't a wind to wear away the wattage.  Matching Boof's wheel became a task toward the fig farm and I shouldn't have let the eyes wander to the speedo, thirty eights made it a mental mountain to get over and I hoped Emil wasn't expecting more of the same. Weird isn't it? Just two or three k's quicker than the comfort zone and toil becomes all enveloping.  Predicting imminent implosion, I called an early roll to Boof and dropped a hand to signal a slight slow, thankfully Emil obliged the mid week limit so I could survive to Old Dookie Rd.  Pleased that the slight violation in velocity had vanished, I was back in the slipstream for the way west to town.  A comfortable conclusion with the sun on our backs toward town was almost in the ranks of tropical (feels like 1.9).  

23/9  Ten for tempo.

Fog was the surprise guest for Thursday's ride, the usual legends fronting Sanctuary's starting grid. (Grumpy, Bo, PistolPete, Kreeky, Greg, Kel, BamBam, Joe (not Tony) and Emil)   Serenity signaled The Godfather's absence (gout's got him again).   My head was in the right space today, prepared for pace-line pain and placed perfectly in fifth wheel, eight k's before I needed to slice through the atmosphere myself (Time enough to h.t.f.u.)   Kel had rattled the routine by driving the second shift after Pistol's mandatory motion to Mitchell Rd, her smoothness sublime to Central Kialla where Bo was put in charge (that was likely to require a risk assessment!)  

The tempo was spot-on till a bit beyond the fire brigade but Bo being Bo had to turn the wick up to reach River Rd.  And that burned the tensor fasciae latae.  Emil took River Rd's first leg and I'd guessed he was toasted too, the signs of digging deep to get to the bridge most unlike his usual shifts. The slight downhill beyond the bridge was the saving grace for my turn toward the dip, just enough descent to offset the extra 15% effort out of the slipstream.  Despite the tank running low there was comfort knowing Joe (not Tony) wasn't going to cook me as he took the lead role.  Fog was patchy as Kreeky led us to Rooster-less corner, part-time Couldabeen (and part-time Wouldabeen) BamBam taking the reigns on Coach Rd till the jelly bean jar was empty.  Grumpy got the job to head us to the highway but his urge ran dry at Channel Rd (to much dirt and not enough tarmac Grumps?)   Greg had watts worthy of a decent drive to the highway with extra to continue to Boundary's bridge.  

All ten had now done their duty so PistolPete started round two and with no sign of his speed sinking ; heads went down for his drive to Old Dookie Rd.   Kel served the status quo toward School Rd then Bo delivered us Central Ave in his escalating effort (as we're accustomed to)  but Emil again showed signs of stress as early as Dobson's bridge.  I hadn't expected to be given the lead role till the truck route but a performance was required as Emil's elbow urged me forward.  It's a great feeling to get on top of the gear and into the groove with wheels hitting their sweet spot in the forties, the moment of the slightest dip below that, a car conveniently passed to loan a tow.  Why aren't all turns at the business end like this?  If they were, I'd be waking up and falling out of bed! Pleased as punch with that performance, I handed over to Joe (not Tony) for his spin to SPC and I'm sure the town slept in a little longer thanks to The Godfather's absence.

24/9  A quickie and a quiet one.

A public holiday begged a ride a little longer and a little later than usual, but a few had places to go and people to see....so the standard stupid o'clock at Sanctuary stuck.   Some of the faster faction had proposed a hundred k ride but at their pace it would be a rung too far up the ladder for me.  The familiar few fronted the roundabout (Emil, Boof, PistolPete, Kel and Bo), a swift single filed fling on the menu. With an appropriate fumble to clip-in as PistolPete kick started the line south, I'd conveniently fallen back to fifth wheel as my position in the procession, reasonable time to ready for the work at the front ; but being on Bo's wheel might not have been the best position.  (He'd caused havoc with hurry yesterday).  Stuck with it now Foss, go with the flow!  PistolPete had the auto-pilot on to take us south, the standard considered build up of speed to the truck route then on the gas for the two k's to Mitchell Rd.  Emil made tracks to Central Kialla, the lack of wind a bonus for all, but that guaranteed the pace would be high.  Boof's got the wattage to run rings 'round us all but kindly complied to the Sanctuary squad standards to River Rd. (i'd hoped he'd softened up Bo a bit though)   

Half way to the bridge and I reckoned all was going well, but the usual Bo trait of a spike in speed toward the end of his shift had legs and lungs smoldering.  That raised the bar for me to do a decent drive to the dip.  Thank heavens for the 0.0003% descent off the bridge! Kel offered little respite when she took aim at the quarter horse gates, PistolPete then driving on to rooster-less corner.  Again, a scenic sun-up distracted the gaze from the wheel ahead while Emil's energy towed us north toward the highway, the pot-holes at One Tree Dam needed some focus though if we were to make it though upright.  

Emil did well to drag us to the highway, a hint of a northerly now hampering progress.  That's no problem for Boof, his excessive energy got us to Old Dookie Rd post haste (he'd better had burned Bo a bit more this time!)  Down to business toward School Rd, Bo turned up the velocity west, but hang on, an early elbow signed his resignation at the bridge  (a "half turn Friday" excuse)    I shouldn't complain about being called to work for an early shift (I was preparing to do my bit beyond Central Ave), there was only 1800 metres of hurt to get to that intersection.  It felt a lot longer.  Long shadows of the crew behind lay ahead while I tried to focus on a relaxed perch and just let the legs labor. Easier said than done with the heart ready to leap out of my chest (or explode within it!)  

I wanted to ask Kel to be gentle with me when she took over at Central Ave but I was a bit preoccupied with oxygen intake at the time.  She was kind, so I could catch the caboose and prepare for PistolPete's swansong to the truck route.  Emil's swift shift to SPC put the sting in the tail.  The search was on in town for a cafe open on a public holiday (penalty rates put the brakes on that) so we settled to sit in the car park of the Scottish restaurant and chat.  Post latte, there was still time to kill, so a quiet lap with Joe (not Tony) and his pair of pals (John and Simon), just out of winter hibernation, would be a fitting finale to follow the earlier effort.  It would rattle the ritual of the standard 45k too.  Verney, Lemnos-Cosgrove, Pine Lodge, Old Dookie, Boundary and Channel was the lap of choice, and like in Rome, it would be done as the Roman's do. Slow and steady.  With a substantial slant on social.  

Turns swapped about a bit till settling for Joe and I at the front with Simon and John (rare to riding in winter and somewhat aerodynamically challenged) satisfied and silent at the back.  A north westerly was steadily brewing en-route to Pine Lodge so the order swapped about a bit when noses aimed south to the Toaster, the speed still simmered around thirty but in view of the earlier velocity, I had no complaints.  Time in the saddle was now the test.  With reasonable shelter along Channel Rd, Simon and Joe (not Tony) showed interest in a squirt of speed on the ChaCha but the foray into the forties was brief, the slow substantial for John to rejoin.  (His puncture on last leg of Channel got his oxygen back).  A chin wag at Friars seated sipping coffee in the morning sun rounded the week off nicely.

This week  282km   YTD 9,846km