Saturday, July 30, 2022

On-board entertainment

 Post #655



23/7  The Saturday squad swap.


For a moment it looked like being a solitary Saturday spin.  Not a soul was at (or near) the start at 5:58.  This might not have been a good idea.  A shift to the Wouldabeens (for variety's sake) may have caught them snoozing this Saturday.   But five leds appearing in Gordon Drive saved the day eventually (and saved me the pain of solitary confinement)      I only just survived a 20 k solo prologue 'cause eyelids sprang open at 4:15 and refused to close again. (sitting at home staring at the walls only breeds excuses not to ride!)    Jase, Wendy, Shorty, Weapon and Crossy took their places at the grid but Superman (who'd called the bunch to arms) was missing (sounds like BamBam's habit is contagious in these parts!)


Shorty set wheels in motion and Superman appeared just as we'd cleared the roundabout.  Nine degrees could have been mistaken for another planet at this time of year and a north northeaster propelled Shorty swiftly to Sanctuary Drive, Crossy taking captaincy there to Mitchell Rd.....and that's where the honeymoon ended.   Time to do some work into the wind now!  By virtue of position, Weapon got the Mitchell Rd leg to Central Kialla and tamed tempo accordingly.  



Woulda's preference for their eastern path on Mitchell Rd was a change of my usual scenery (mundane as it was in the dark), Wendy driving toward the sole landmark of the dog-leg where Jase was promoted to the front.  Without so much as a road sign to go by, there wasn't a thing to aim at but that strengthening east northeaster would end efforts at the front soon enough.  I'd been given the helm somewhere in no-man's land with no guide on the length to Coach Rd, so continued at Jase pace hoping the tank wouldn't dry up.  A reflection of a curved arrow in the distance finally gave me a clue of the hurt remaining.  


I'll confess that joining the Woulda's today was to seek a sedate spin but this was becoming an effort for the old engine to reach the main eastern channel!  Superman took charge for the aim north while I fought to find a draft at the road's edge.  Red lit the horizon to distract the frustration.   Shorty did well despite limited time on the bike and Crossy raised the standards when he was given the reigns at the Broken bridges.  Jase and I again drew the short straw of the headwind in Old Dookie Rd after Weapon and Wendy had divided the drive of Boundary Rd.  Nearly at the Pork Palace when Jase's elbow beckoned me to the front, the drive to the Toaster wasn't much fun though thoughts of the tailwind home found the watts to get there. 

Superman suffered on the shift toward the Pine Lodge church and Shorty withdrew from duty with a lack of lumens from a new headlight (now there's another sneaky ploy to escape a turn at the business end!)    Crossy opened the throttle headed to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd and that disconnected Superman from the formation, so a brief pause and a calm resumption of pace got seven back together again.  Two rows formed now that the wind was behind us , ego's inflated now that high 30's didn't need much effort (and there were none of the usual concerns about the bolt to breakfast on the Boulevard either, this crew steer to breakfast via Verney Rd!)   Overseas itineraries, easy arrests and cruisy jobs made for different discussion over a different breakfast at BelCibo's. 

25/7  Buoyed by the breeze at the backside.


On a cold winter's morning with no time clock to conform to, a sensible person would stay warm and soak up a sleep-in........I did say a sensible person!  Five degrees wasn't so bad and an easterly breeze wasn't so brutal, though trying to get some sort of speed out of the old engine is always a big ask on a Monday  (Emil must go through a lot of brake pads between Tarcoola and Sanctuary Drive)   The grid failed to fill more than nine places at 5:39, The Godfather, Emil, Lenny, PistolPete, Kel, Wozza, Rocket and the 5ft Ninja were the few to front for the start of the 38th week's work.   Common sense had the pack stay Indian file under PistolPete's lead, that easterly now feeling quite a handbrake with high 30's standards on speedo (clever me to be at the back with a fair amount of eastward travel to go)    


PistolPete played the gentleman  staying on the front to Central Kialla to spare the 5ft Ninja the headwind, her turn an admirable one to River Rd.  My glance back on the lookout for traffic found PistolPete was a.w.o.l., so a squirt to the front delivered Kel the news to ease up.  Oxygen stocktaking was nice.  Pete had reconnected within a minute (headlight overboard apparently) so we were back on the gas to River Rd's bridge.  That head-on breeze had no effect on Rocket's urge to reach rooster corner yet I was into Zone 5 keeping up!   At this rate I'd have a coronary collapse getting to 2nd wheel!  Wozza kept the speed simmering up Coach Rd in the 36's and 7's to the highway and Emil continued the cruelty to Old Dookie Rd though the breeze now on the starboard side helped the heart rate settle back to Zone 4. 

The way back to town had a little less labor with the breeze at the backside but when The Godfather dragged us to Central Ave and the Ninja delivered us half way to Dobson's bridge, holding Lenny's wheel to the truck route got me nudging Zone 5 again.  Being towed for most of the circuit had me feeling rather guilty, so when Lenny elbowed me to lead the shift to SPC, it was time I earned my keep.  Pleased as punch to get 40 on the Garmin early but desperate (and a bit blurry) to maintain it, a passing car provided a subtle slipstream when I was left with just a few drops in the tank.  What timing!  Those 50mm Craftworx wheels paid me back with pace to continue to Wheeler St and there the empty tank made the engine splutter.  It was a short contribution but a satisfying one (when I got my breath back!), topped off by kudos from Rocket no less!

26/7  Because others did! 


The Ninja bailing out of Tuesday's spin could have triggered a mass exodus with a damp and windy Tuesday circuit in store.  One more "I'm out" and I'd be pulling the pin too!  So I found a bit of inspiration to know Emil, Kim and Wendy were stepping up to take on a somewhat soggy circuit.  Where would we be without a bunch to motivate?  (Probably tucked up in a warm bed getting eight hours sleep.....and going very soft!)  Jen had returned to the damp and dreary six degrees from a beachside Queensland weekend too, so five to ride wasn't a bad showing, the westerly wind helping our hurry out of town but would be applying some hurt for the return. 

Emil didn't get too excited with the tailwind to the truck route (I reckon Kim would know an effective payback if he did!) and I wasn't about to stir up any scorn with speed either (hell hath no fury etc......)   I managed to avoid the puddles and steer the less-damp line to Orrvale Rd but guessed there'd be at least a dozen worms stuck to the bike by now.  Wendy's smooth shift to the Kinder was followed by Kim's contribution to the cypress trees and Jen had no problem with pace to the S bend.  Emil started round two with a dose of determination toward Coach Rd but a holler from the rear for a discount on speed lowered the standard a bit. It did keep everyone on speaking terms.  Besides, some sort of wattage would be needed for the return to town. 

Attempts to hold a straight line and a steady speed weren't so successful when Emil handed me the lead at Boundary's bridge, that westerly was intent on making a mess of it.  (I could use the excuse of dodging puddles I suppose?  Those behind probably thought I was drunk!)   Already the shift scenarios were being calculated in the skull and the familiar pattern of being towed back to town looked likely, so extending my turn to New Dookie Rd felt like a fair share (it would probably be my swansong)   Wendy towed us to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd where Kim and Jen shared the 4 k's to Lemnos so when Emil took the lead into Ford Rd my theory of being towed to town proved true. Of course he drove the last 8 k's to the Butter Factory, I just had to hold his wheel!

27/7  Free entertainment.


The headlight lit up another damp strip of tarmac Wednesday; so wasn't it worth spending half an hour cleaning the bike yesterday?!    (and just as I'd mustered up enough motivation to face yet another winter's morning).  A cold westerly was thrown in just to test my limits.  Thrashing the old engine to Sanctuary Drive with Boof and Emil  (I reckon I commute with the wrong division, or should I leave home 15 minutes earlier?) found Lenny, Greg, Rocket, Wozza,  Kel, Bo, the 5ft Ninja and The Godfather congregating for the ride ritual, so I tactically joined the rear in hope of getting the westerly up the Khyber when my turn came due (let's hope it'd happen in River Rd)  


Lenny had set a keen pace which hammered hopes I'd match it when promoted to the drivers seat but I'd cross that bridge when it came.  Bo and The Godfather seem inseparable lately and that spelled mischief as they paired to River Rd's bridge, though Bo wouldn't swallow the bait of being half wheeled so tempo didn't go supersonic.  Time in the hot seat drew near for me in the draft of Boof and The Godfather to the dip, happy that Boof towed me up the category three climb before rolling across at Trevaskis Rd.  The westerly helped me get to the quarter horse stud but matching the 5ft Ninja on her mission to get to rooster corner toasted me.  A side wind on Coach Rd and the Ninja's miserable draft wasn't helping the heart rate in recovery either!   


Lenny and Greg threw the social standards out the window touching 39's to Old Dookie Rd, my saving grace was I'd be unlikely to get to the front again (such sad news ; I'd have to miss that headwind to town!)  Bo had slipped back a few places in the order (avoiding the headwind or another pairing with The Godfather?) while Rocket and Wozz didn't spare the horsepower toward Central Ave.  Emil and The Godfather got together for the drive to the truck route with hurt on the to do list, and just as Greg praised The Godfathers' determined drive, he ran out of steam and retreated for a draft 200 metres shy of the mark. There was a lot of sting in the squirt to SPC but a chance to get oxygen came when Wozz punctured at Wheeler St.


28/7  Westerly woes.


Hardening up to the hurry of the Sanctuary squad looked likely when Kim and Wendy failed to front up on Thursday.  Just Emil and I set southbound while I suppressed thoughts of a Sanctuary thrashing but concerns were soon cancelled finding Jen and the Ninja at the shop, all set to spin the squirrel circuit.  There'd be a little less speed but a bit more labor to make up for it, particularly with a westerly to worry about for the return.  Naturally Emil introduced us to the circuit with his standard shift to the truck route and with the wind behind, soon put high thirties on the agenda.  I wasn't so stressed to conform to that standard, my usual turn to Orrvale Rd has only 1200 metres to drive. (Sounds short, but the wattage spent to get there becomes apparent when re-stocking oxygen again in the draft)     Jen took us to the Kinder in the "warmth" of nine degrees though the suffering of the headwind we'd face at Lemnos-Cosgrove wouldn't make things too comfortable. The Ninja drove on to Hanlon Rd where Emil commenced round two, so where I'd be given the elbow to lead was anyone's guess.  (Nothing like a bit of variety injected into the usual ritual).  Bearing north into Coach Rd pegged the pace a bit with the wind at the left shoulder and surprise surprise, Emil elbowed me to the front crossing the highway (and I'd just finished my therapy sessions on the repetition of the Pub to Old Dookie shift!)   The orchards offered a little shelter and that smooth stretch of tarmac had the Michelin's humming. (A check on the speedo confirmed it was more of a psychological speed than physical one though!)  


Not being greedy, I gave Jen the lead at Old Dookie Rd, reckoning the Ninja would have a chance of avoiding the wind up to Lemnos-Cosgrove, therefore Emil's energy could be spent westward into the headwind. That went to plan, but I hadn't counted on suffering the second wheel syndrome when Emil chose a long drive to Lemnos.   Preparing to face the front in Ford Rd, I had more of that second wheel work to Grahamvale Rd instead.  These young fella's with energy to burn...........  Surely I'd get the lead role for the short shift to Verney?  Nope!  Emil's exuberance went further to Verney Rd where I felt certain he'd continue on his trademark shift south to the Butter Factory, but pickle my grandmother! I'd finally been given the drive to Balaclava Rd.  Smooth tarmac again and a few houses lending shelter from the wind made the return to town most pleasurable (though a puncture slapped some reality into me at the Uni.).  

29/7  F...f...f...frigid Friday!


And here's me thinking the worst of winter had passed!  Friday turned frigid with a feels like minus 2.5 and that got the new thermal jersey off the hangar.......now to ready the lungs for a Friday frosting!  Southbound to Sanctuary Drive had the usual preparation for for bunch speed by trying to keep up with Emil, Jen, Boof and Rocket ; seems hard at the time yet I survive a faster pace later!  The Godfather, Bo, PistolPete, Kel and Greg lined up for labor at 5:39, PistolPete providing his usual leadership to Mitchell Rd.   I joined the queue for work at the rushin' front behind Rocket, hoping his kindness to senior citizens hadn't faded and trusting Jen (behind) wouldn't tear my legs off on part two!  


There was plenty of effort into the legs keeping pace with Greg and Emil dragging us through Central Kialla to distract the senses from the cold. Efforts elevated when promoted to third wheel while Emil and The Godfather steered two lines to River Rd's bridge with hardly a breeze to grizzle about (SE 6-9 km/h) but 100 % humidity felt like pushing through soup.  


Rocket's compassion helped the head cope with the drive toward the dip and Jen let me off the hook of hurt when she called a short shift for part two.  Boof and PistolPete seemed to be just about stalling towing us to rooster corner. (all I want for Christmas is half their wattage Santa!)   A hint of horizon light lit hopes of longer days ahead while hopes of surviving turn two filled the head when joining the advance again.  (Bo had restored a bit of calm to the velocity as some sort of encouragement)  Verbal mud-slinging featured at the front when Rocket and The Godfather steered us into Old Dookie Rd but that's the standard on-board entertainment that aids attendance isn't it?  


Rocket was highly amused by The Godfather's effort to slow the speed, though that's exactly what I'd be doing when given the lead role!    Getting to the front at School Rd, frustration grew as the old engine refused to deliver what the head wanted, and when it miss-fired beyond Central Ave, I called Boof straight over to recover. Why ruin the rhythm?  I'd suppressed the sounds of suffering to Dobson's bridge where the world started to come back into focus and that was just in time to use the last in the tank for that dash to SPC.

This week 284 km       YTD 7,707 km                        

      

Friday, July 22, 2022

Lowered heads and heightened heart-rates

Post #654



16/7  The sting in Saturday.


So close to picking up the phone and messaging "I'm out" of the Saturday ride, that little voice in the back of the skull reminded me of the regret I'd suffer later.  I'd had a very average night so enthusiasm was at a trickle at stupid o'clock and excuses were multiplying rapidly.  Couldabeens camaraderie to the rescue!  Four degrees was bordering on civilized considering the week just passed and a northeaster (11-20 km/h) made the spin to Sanctuary sublime, particularly when Emil and I had caught Boof, Rocket and Wozz at Archer St's lights and scored their slipstream to the start line.  


Numbers at the grid were thin though (add PistolPete, Bo, Greg, Grumpy and Bruce to the recipe), that feeling of being a pop-gun among the cannons was hard to get out of the head as the clock ticked toward six.  The Godfather arrived to join the ranks Indian filed to the truck route and that painted a picture of punishment for this old pop-gun.  To Mitchell Rd and the easy stuff was done, now to face that wind for the next twenty k's.  Luck had me on the sheltered side at the back when two lines eventually formed, though Grumpy's wheel was a hard act to follow (sitting well off the wheel ahead locked into some sort of conversation with anyone alongside)    A sense of being second wheel, but at the back.  Well, that was my reckoning of being on the rivet but a long way from serving a shift.   


Bo pulled the handbrake on hurry half way into River Rd so I made the most of overdosing on oxygen.  (Maybe his Friday hydration of hops nobbled his tempo?  Not complaining, I was relishing the respite!)   TatPaul was caught beyond the dip while I calculated my time at the business end would be in Boundary so there was time for a bit of social stuff before the huff and puff at the helm.   Grumpy rolled across at the highway and that northeaster squashed speed immediately, those behind would have to tolerate something sluggish.  Reaching the bridge felt like a big achievement though the "downhill" was no reward.  Wozz kindly stayed level for part two of my punishment while I went to war with what the head wanted and what the legs and lungs wouldn't do.   Frustrating isn't it?  (Ferrari hopes - Festiva outcome)   


Enough was enough when the fig farm came into the headlights beam and trying to silence the gasps of recovery was nearly as hard as silencing Grumpy!  TatPaul did his standard exit to town when we swung east into Old Dookie, Bo's gillet becoming a spinnaker en route to the Toaster so sledges were served thick and fast when he called a halt to re-zip it  (now that's a good trick to recover lost oxygen come to think of it!)    Reaching Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd was like winning the lottery; that the northeaster now blowing at the right buttock, but naturally tempo was turned up accordingly.  I hesitated to join the advance again but playing a small part in the peloton is better than none isn't it?  Forties became de rigueur bound for Lemnos and the effort escalated on each promotion toward the front.  (What's the physics?  It's said a rider ahead reduces drag by 10% but 7% more speed needs 20% more power....... those factors meant my next shift would be short!)    It's very reassuring when the other guy calls "your speed", it's almost a "get out of jail free", but expectations of providing a pace something like respectable weigh heavily in the head (then that often drives you too hard)   Almost embarrassed to call half-time just half a k into the turn, my focus became narrow (and rather blurry) to get another half k out of the old engine beside Wozz. (Well, it was always going to be a small part to play......)   The consolation of being towed back to breakfast helped the recovery a bit, if  I'd cope with the now habitual hurry along the Boulevard was another matter!   


I didn't feel so spent when Bo burst a boiler at the front at DECA and retired to the rear ; seems I wasn't the only one running at the red line.  Just like lining up for a prostate exam, I gritted teeth along Rudd Rd in readiness for the bomb to go off in the Boulevard, how timely then for Grumpy to deliver a glowing testimonial that I'd survived the pace to date.  (Now I'd have to perform to the pedestal he put me on!)  Suffering turned single file as Rocket lit the afterburners at Canterbury's roundabout and luck had me 3rd last in the order, but the tank was almost bone dry a thousand metres later.  Last in line at Tarcoola's roundabout, I hesitated for a moment as a car approached.....and that dropped me ten metres off the back in a blink (and didn't that raise the white flag in the head)  PistolPete easing off the gas was my saving grace, I could catch the ranks of the rearmost to be towed back into a feeling of belonging to a bunch.   T de F scenery, winter insulation and Didi's use-by date was babbled through breakfast and even with legs like jelly, I was glad I'd ignored those early excuses. 

18/7  Trial by temperature (or the lack of it!)


If 1.4 degrees wasn't cold enough, a west northwester sprang up to chill the bones on Monday, good preparation for colder stuff to come if the forecast was to be believed.  Lenny had emerged from hibernation to blow some cobwebs off the old Cannondale (and probably blow some cobwebs out of Lenny too!), otherwise it was just the few winter soldiers left  (PistolPete, Emil, Bruce, Bo, Kel, Rocket, Wozza and The Godfather) that formed up to charge around a chilled circuit.   Naturally PistolPete got wheels turning south, Emil enthused to pair for the 3km to Mitchell Rd.  Even though you brace for the real chill at speed, the reality of that icy atmosphere gets you every time. And doesn't it get the adrenaline production into double time!   But all is well after a minute or so.....everything goes numb.  A few were calculating the forecast days ahead might just cross their comfort zone so the mid-week numbers might be counted on one hand.  With River Rd almost in view, Lenny was questioning his comeback timing.   The weekend's activities, The Godfather's garble and "Bling's" beaut stage 14 win occupied the conversation and became some sort of distraction from the cold. The disintegrating tarmac at the quarter horse gates seems to be accelerating, a wheel could be lost in the pot-holes in a week or two.    


Bo's short shift toward rooster corner drew some flak, though my contribution would probably be shorter, so Kel saved Bo's bacon and took charge in Coach Rd.  It's not like Kel to call it quits shy of One Tree Dam so I assumed the lead of the left line and The Godfather took the right.  I could understand Kel's shortfall now as that west northwester whittled away the watts and chilled the lungs that drive them.  So I called it quits too at the bridges for The Godfather's charity of a slipstream (where he gets his horsepower from I'm not sure, but there was enough to drive to Old Dookie Rd in the 36's  with Emil.) From there, other big engines took on the west way back home though Kel and I played our cards carefully in the caboose, rather than be drawn to the front again.  The young lads did the driving into the headwind like it was downhill, so maybe I should find a Spanish doctor to do something about my speed? 

19/7  You don't have to be mad.......but it helps!


Maybe I'm growing accustomed to the cold?  The atmosphere didn't bite when I opened the door, despite the bureau saying zero.   Every parked car's windscreen was a crusty white in the headlights beam on the roll to the crescent's end and being layered like an onion helped the old engine warm a bit..........till applying tempo!  (Yep, it's winter alright!)  The value of others riding in conditions like this can't be underestimated ; would anyone tackle this temperature solo? (if so, have them committed!)   So it was pleasing to find Wendy, Kim and Emil at Tarcoola for the squirrel spin, and Jen had dragged herself back from holiday to join the crew.  The 5ft one endured the 11 km commute in the cold to the Archer St shop though BamBam's intention to come may have been over-ruled by a warm bed.  So at 5:30,  Rule #87 applied  (no exceptions!) and Emil commenced proceedings east into Channel Rd showing a little sympathy on speed under the refrigerated conditions.  I had no qualms conforming to that speed when given the shift to Orrvale Rd (lungs weren't letting a lot of that icy stuff in!), Kim making a brief appearance at the front (a fractious foot an a week off two wheels was reason enough) before relinquishing the lead to Wendy to drive us to the Kinder.   


Jen had done the leg to the cypress trees and the Ninja had head down and tail up toward the S bend when the holler went out for a large Skippy and it's family of three parked in the Hanlon Rd intersection.  Six headlights sent them packing north but the Ninja resumed with a wide open throttle to distance Kim, Jen and Wendy off the back.  Courtesy told me tow truck duties were in order to get the squad back in line and that worked to the S bend but had cooked Kim in the process.  Standards were reset to 31's so squirrels didn't scatter (start as a team, finish the same)  A bit off the tempo was actually a bonus, I didn't need full throttle to hold Emil's wheel north in Boundary Rd so I could serve something decent when given the lead role at Boundary's bridge.  And so the turns rolled ; Wendy up to Lemnos-Cosgrove, Kim braved a short one west, Jen nearly got to Lemnos and the Ninja did extra into Ford Rd.  So when Emil got to the front with 7 k's till reaching town, I knew I wouldn't get in the drivers seat again.  Back into suburbia and seeking some warmth, the rumor of the Butter Factory not being open got caffeine cravings satisfied at Stellar. 

20/7  Combined clans in the cold.


If I didn't look at the Bureau's statistics I'd say Wednesday was cold......like most of the week had been.  The temperature's just a number that you're better off not knowing, but I looked anyway!  Mmmm......minus three wasn't worth knowing (and I didn't dare look at the "feels like"!)  Wendy had concrete for breakfast and fronted a frosty Tarcoola roundabout, joining Emil and I for the commute south to see what other hard-core starters there'd be.  Kreeky, Bo, PistolPete, Rocket, Boof, Kel and Greg was more than I'd expected and quite a contingent of Wouldabeens (Crossy, Joe (not Tony) and Jase) had joined too.  Maybe they'd tired of just four or five working their winter circuit?    


The Godfather arrived late at the truck route as Emil and PistolPete set the speed south, Woulda's were all in row ready to join the advance.  The social speed standard had returned for this Wednesday, probably as a courtesy to guests, though any sort of pace in the minuses was an effort.   Weapon had missed the 5:40 launch but used the short cut to get aboard in River Rd, so when I joined the advance I was in the Weapon / Wendy sandwich.  


Funny how you climatise to the regular riders habits and what each wheel is like to follow, the moment there's someone else in the pack it really rattles routine! I'd noticed a random 'clunk' kept repeating nearing rooster corner and it took a few moments to decipher ; someone was doing a spasmodic split-second freewheel, and didn't it ruin the rhythm!  (no pointing of fingers though, it's origin was a mystery)   Tempo tamed and turns at the front shortened in Coach Rd as Crossy, Jase, Joe (not Tony) and Weapon did their shifts, so I kept a keen eye on keeping wheels level with the visitors (a bit of respect goes a long way)   


Rocket and PistolPete were promoted to the front when Wendy called enough at Channel Rd, their pace preserved as sociable to the highway and carefully turned back up to the higher thirties toward Old Dookie Rd.   (to hell with the social stuff!)   With Boof, Greg and Emil lined up to serve at the front, there were a few sighs of relief at the back of escaping another turn at the business end. All survived the temperature and the tempo back to the Butter Factory, the warmth of coffee at the conclusion a particular pleasure (especially when you don't pay!)

21/7  The faster faction.


Squirrels had gone soft!  Emil and I toured to the Archer St starting grid minus Kim and Jen (an excessive hydration issue apparently had ruled them out) so with Liam and Lili yet to toughen up to the temperature (I told them holidays in the heat are no good for you!), Tina about to apply for Queensland citizenship, Wendy's want to work with the Woulda's and Molly missing (still), only the 5 ft Ninja was at the shop.  (Harden up Foss, that means we'd swap a slim squirrel squad for a swift Sanctuary session instead!  and here's me hoping for a semi-social sort of spin!)  Greg, Wozza, Boof, Kreeky, Bo, PistolPete, Kel, Rocket and The Godfather assembled in the minute before 5:40, Emil inheriting the first shift when PistolPete was beaten to the number one spot.  Single filed suffering is on the Tuesday / Thursday menu, so I was happy slotting into fifth wheel behind The Godfather when the pecking order got sorted exiting the roundabout (There'd be a bit of time to toughen up for the tempo)    Emil's been educated well; not too sluggish and not too supersonic to the truck route then slowly stoking the boiler to Mitchell Rd.  Airways weren't icing over today, 1.3 degrees was far less brutal on the respiratory system than yesterday's "feels like minus five".  PistolPete did the two and a bit k's to Central Kialla and Greg put plenty of progress into the path to River Rd.  Kreeky was wanting for watts and found the caboose the best place to search for them, so Emil carried the news forward to The Godfather to go a little easier on the effort.  (Phew!  I'd been saved!  Thanks Kreeky, I'll pay by the months end ;-)     Just those couple of clicks off the tempo meant I could manage the shift from the bridge to the dip (lucky it's one of the shortest expected drives on the circuit) so I preserved some standards rather than earn the badge of handbrake.  


The Ninja had legs and lungs working overtime too, keeping the kettle boiling to the quarter-horse stud where Wozza lowered heads and heightened heart rates to rooster corner to show us what wattage can do. (Get used to it Foss, Rocket was up next!)  Wind played little part on pace today, a west southwester was barely worth mentioning, but Rocket's rapid regardless of what the wind does.  Boof had Boundary Rd's leg to Old Dookie Rd so legs and lungs certainly got consistency for several k's.  Bo had found form to drive east beyond School Rd touching the forties, Kel completing the drive to Central Ave for Emil to take over.  Ah, not long now till the warmth of coffee would cure the "feels like" minus three.  (But would it cure jellied legs?!)  PistolPete preserved the protocol of a swift shift to SPC, even the commute was quick via the streets, intersections, curves and railway crossings to the elixir of life found in a mug.

This week 259 km   YTD 7,402 km    

                   

Friday, July 15, 2022

The test of testicular tenacity.

Post #653



12/7  An elephant stamp for Emil.


Hot and cold flushes, the nasty rash, fractious behavior and that random tremor all vanished on Tuesday morning.  Finally back on the bike after three days off and "normal" started to return (if you call charging into the dark and cold of stupid o'clock when you could be toasty warm in bed "normal"!0   A steady spin with a few squirrels would be a gentle re-introduction to the two wheeled habit and the southern spin to the shop start line was no drama at all  (a breeze at the backside was giving me the black forest gateau before the Brussels sprouts though!)     Only Emil, Wendy and the 5ft Ninja had fronted, the moment's wait for another was courteous but ridiculously optimistic (high time all these absentees returned I reckon!)    Un-elected but unopposed, captain Emil took to Channel Rd like Rocket takes to a brewery and I wasn't going to snooker others into second wheel, so took up my expected role as No.2 while Emil turned up the tempo.  


Mid thirties wasn't too taxing, though with just four on duty there'd be several shifts to serve. That usual 1200 metres to Orrvale Rd opened my account and handing over to Wendy when I'd reached there, the world was surprisingly still in focus.  (Maybe three days off had done me some good?)   The Ninja did the leg to the cypress trees and the shifts started again but that got me thinking Emil would drive to the end of Channel Rd or maybe to the highway, so I'd get the elbow for the Midland to Old Dookie shift yet again!  (thinking too much again Foss......)   The swing north onto Coach Rd got eyes focused on Emil's elbow, expecting anything, but it seemed I'd be spared the repetition of the turn that haunts me when he  forged on to the Boundary bridge and beyond.   


Mid thirties was still the standard despite the breeze at the brow but Emil's younger and a bit lower to the tarmac......well, that's my take on his tempo.  Still no sign at Old Dookie, I'd braced for the handover at New Dookie Rd but Emil earned an elephant stamp for effort dragging us to Lemnos-Cosgrove instead.  And that set the bar high for me to do something decent too (though not quite the epic proportions of  his 9k drive at the front)   3300 metres to Lemnos North Rd might be ranked as reasonable.  That north northeast breeze wasn't too bad so I got to the target without the audio of an amplified asthmatic. Wendy however seemed to be working overtime on the first leg of Ford (shouldn't play on other folks struggles, though it does lift your own hopes a little)   The Ninja did the Grahamvale to Verney leg and started the southbound stuff to Balaclava, but that stretch of tarmac has Emil's name engraved on it so he towed us to the finish line.  

13/7  A strange serenity.


Despite the Antarctic west southwester on Wednesday (feels like minus 1) a few had fronted (Kreeky, Lance, Wozza, Boof, Wendy, Kel, Bruce, PistolPete. Greg, Bo, the 5ft Ninja, Emil and Rocket) for a mid-week social spin - if those standards still apply! (Wendy was banking on it!) PistolPete stuck to his habit of a smooth and steady start to proceedings to the truck route and built the tempo from there (not that anyone behind should complain being towed while he faced the icy wind to take us to Mitchell Rd.)  


Lance had braved a chilly comeback from seven weeks worth of West Australian warmth and Kreeky was on a search for fitness following an industrial strength cold.  Central Kialla's chill wasn't making it easy on either of them.  Wozza's vigorous waving wasn't a greeting but an attempt to get circulation to the fingers as the bunch settled into something sort of social eastbound along River Rd.  Placement in the pack seemed perfect to score me a prevailing wind when I got to the business end 'cause shifts were shortening as lungs tried to cope with processing the icy atmosphere.  Kel and the 5ft Ninja led the last k to rooster corner (still crows in the cold), the turn north into Coach Rd revising the Ninja's commitment to part two. 

Wendy was called across within a few hundred metres and I'd prepared for the long shift to the bridges but watts were on her want list too, so preparations were used to pair with Wozz to the highway instead.  Calls were clear and concise today, and the usual white noise was missing.....a strange serenity in the squad for a change.   I wondered why?  Something was missing.....
Rocket and Wozz applied their spice to the social speed north to Old Dookie Rd and you can't blame them really (Formula One's idle at 5,000 rpm don't they?)   At least it continued the peace and quiet (ignoring the huffs and puffs).  The reality of a head wind home pegged the pace a little and turns at the pointy end became less heroic but I hadn't a worry in the world having done my one and only shift and being towed back to town.  The few breaths banked in the slipstream were quickly spent on the squirt to SPC anyway. 

14/7  Thursday's thuffering. 


Squirrels seem to be on a sinking ship!  With only three at the shop, the switch to the Sanctuary squad was the sensible alternative, though it took the head into a difference space - substantially more speed than the squirrels was now on the 'to do' list.   The fight into a southwester to the start line would mean mostly prevailing winds for the circuit though.  PistolPete, Wozza, Boof and Rocket were a.w.o.l. so I was quick to attach to Emil's wheel when he berthed as No 1 on the grid at 5:39.   


Greg, the 5ft Ninja, Grumpy, Bo, Bruce, Kel, Kreeky and The Godfather lined up for duty but the format stayed Indian file when Emil pulled the chocks away at 5:40.   Shift that head-space to hurry Foss, you're up next! (nothing like a change of routine to test you eh?)   I suppose the southwester for the path east would be some sort of help.  Given the lead role when Emil turned us into Mitchell Rd, I'd almost stunned self to be sticking to 37's (I hadn't planned that sort of hurry) though the slightest of downhills (a descent of half a metre in a hundred) would be the reason.  A kilometre in, the check on pace was probably a bad idea ; speed was still ok but the mistaken glance at the heart rate spelled impending implosion.  And the target was still 900 metres beyond (hopes turned to hopeless)   Maintaining some sort of team tempo stoked up the stubbornness to make it to Euroa Rd. 

 I'd silenced the sounds of a growling bear when many delivered kudos as I rolled rearward for recovery, sucking in bucket loads of feels like minus 1 chilled air wasn't the comfort I was looking for but the kind words helped the head while it dealt with the hurt.   The 5ft Ninja led a slightly slower speed to River Rd so that fast tracked recuperation.  Grumpy was made captain for the first k's of River Rd, Bruce taking over at the bridge but my concern was what The Godfather had in store at the dip after his five days absence.  Nothing nasty as it happened, the usual three k effort to rooster corner with a little of the variable velocity he's famous for.  Bo had the southwester in his favor to head us north into Coach Rd but shortened his shift at the bridge.  Kreeky wasn't running so well on the cold air intake so gave Kel the captaincy at Channel Rd. (of course she delivered a decent drive to Boundary Rd's bridge.  More hurt was on my agenda as Greg turned up the torment to touch 40 toward Old Dookie Rd but the worry was being second wheel to Emil as he faced the wind toward town.  I'd almost expected his elbow at School Rd, given the watts needed to hold high 30's but he continued to Central Ave.  I'd almost taken the drivers seat across the intersection but Emil continued holding the reigns, so Dobson's was now my "grin and bear it" point.    Oh no it wasn't!   Emil's effort continued to the truck route ; trouble was I was cooked just getting there! So when I'd finally faced the front for the swift bit to SPC, it became spectacularly sluggish.  Running on empty I think you call it. 

15/7  Winters' worst?


This was the seventeenth day of three degrees or below; my line in the sand that defines cold from cool.  Trouble is that historically, we get at least thirty per year so there's even more to endure!  Greg's right, we need a few concrete trucks worth of h.t.f.u. delivered!   Particularly today, minus two at 5am was a real test of testicular tenacity!   It did help to find others braving the conditions (if only to substantiate one's own stupidity!) so hats off to Wozza, Greg, Emil, the 5ft Ninja, Bruce, Kel, Boof, PistolPete, The Godfather, Bo and BamBam (yep, it wasn't a hologram, he was really there and didn't he choose the day for a comeback!) turning up to minimize my madness a bit.   


Kel was the class act to follow as the dozen got sorted southbound with PistolPete and Emil tough enough to face the chill factor first.  It was certainly cold enough in the ranks of the not-so-tough behind!  Temperature kept The Godfather somewhat silent.  Fog became the factor reaching River Rd, Bruce calling a brief halt (to the chorus of a dozen damp discs howling their protests of pausing ; almost in harmony) to pocket fogged specs in the interest of knowing where the road was.  The big test was tolerating the chill on the resumption of business  (Plenty of cadence and adrenaline made a marginal difference)    


Behind Greg as he and The Godfather did their duty to rooster corner wasn't too taxing, there was a discount applied to standard speed so lungs didn't ice over, though facing the front in Coach Rd found the chill factor two fold as I fought to keep a credible speed alongside Greg.  The Garmin had inexplicably turned itself off but it probably helped that there wasn't the numbers of a sluggish speed and a high heart rate to hassle the head.  The Broken bridges was well beyond my half way point when I'd rolled across, so how kind was Kel offering to loan a draft at Channel Rd and put me out of my misery!  Lungs hurt a lot filling with frozen stuff to the highway.  By Boundary Rd I could speak a few words but Wozz was stumped for an answer to my question of why we were doing this (he was probably grateful there were others along to blame.  How silly you'd be doing this solo!!!)  


BamBam and the Ninja had chosen to stay in the 0.0003 degree warmer seats of the caboose as Boof then Emil did the towing duties toward town, picking up pace beyond the truck route while I burned the last dregs of energy to stay in touch (in an effort to be recognized as a part of the bunch).  Not only did the Butter Factory coffee taste even better, it partially thawed the fingers!

This week  184km         YTD   7,142km