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. 
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.
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!
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
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