Post #662
10/9 Swift 'n soggy.
Delighted to see the forecast 5am showers had been shifted to start at 8am, hope sprang up of getting the Saturday ritual ride done before the wet arrived. Not so delightful was the damp road and misty atmosphere to ride in. (some clever guy spent half an hour cleaning his bike yesterday!) Maybe I'm masochistic to suffer speed to the start-line (this hobby is meant to be pleasurable) but on reflection, it's preparing for pace to come isn't it? The usual dozen or so (Gazza, Emil, the 5ft Ninja, Bo, Boof, Rocket, Wozza, GiantAndy, Bruce, Lenny and Trav) lined up for the 6am ritual, though PistolPete's absence was notable. Mark it in the history books that Bo led the two lines south, Emil delivering the training for it alongside. Mist in the low lands confirmed the 100% humidity and sight of a light ahead at first hinted of The Godfather's return, but it was PistolPete joining in ; delayed by a puncture.
Don't you just love that moment when the wheel ahead (the Ninja's as it happened) hits a big puddle to irrigate your nostrils! (I'd probably donated the same to Bo behind) Gazza's gesticulation dislodged the Cervelo's headlight on Mitchell Rd so a half k idle while he retrieved it was a welcome time to reload on oxygen. Forties for the first few k's was diving into the deep end a bit early for me. Back into the swing of things through Central Kialla, we were nudging the forties again (almost climatized to it by then) but I had a while to wait before duty called.
The new chain jumped a worn sprocket on the acceleration into Coach Rd so that would accelerate a few dollars to a new cassette soon (the engine's worn out but the bike needs maintenance!) The Ninja requested I roll straight over when her part one was done, so I scored a short drive with Bo toward Pine Lodge Creek. (40's could go to hell, 37's was all I had!) No complaints came but Bo, Rocket and Wozz gradually built the tempo back to 39's to Boundary Rd and by that time I'd regained enough oxygen to cope with GiantAndy's low 40's toward Lemnos. (A red led ahead seemed to be the bait). TatPaul was passed at the rumble strips but he continued solo when the Ninja called a halt for a puncture entering Ford Rd.
Yes, tubeless tyres do deflate, but a CO2 injection repaired it to resume quickly. Nearer town and nearer to the front wasn't a suitable spot for me ; I was well aware of what hurt happens along the Boulevard, so sat back in the caboose which was slowly filling with likeminded sufferers. GiantAndy had positioned perfectly (yet again) to front the pack as the Boulevard gained a centre island, but my eye was focused on keeping close to PistolPete ; he's the reliable one to collect those prone to going ota and tow them home. The big guns had gapped a few fighting for breath by Tarcoola's roundabout but there was Pistol ready to pick up the pieces and drag them (and me) to breakfast.
With a sense of belonging to a bunch, we'd rolled into town just as the heavens opened (an hour early) and an energetic easterly (17- 44 km/h) made our bee-line to the Butter Factory a squiggle. Vuelta casualties, unwanted guests and cassette ratios kept tongues tattling over breakfast while the showers passed (but the commute home was a soggy one)
13/9 Excessive enthusiasm.
Concrete was on Tuesday's breakfast menu - not just because I'd taken Sunday and Monday off but for the "feels like" minus two! (I was hoping for a not-so-swift squirrel spin to ease me back into the addiction. Two days not riding and I'd turned rusty)
Wendy, Kim, Jen, Emil, Tina, LiamM and Lili jumped aboard the southern commute to the shop to find Kreeky and the Ninja ready for the 5:30 start. Of course Emil took the lead role into Channel Rd (there'd be a catastrophic shift in the time-space continuum if he didn't!) and didn't he have his skates on! 38 looked like it might get him into the dispute resolution tribunal without an appointment! So to avoid being called there myself, I set 35's to Orrvale Rd to keep in the good books. The usual order was shuffled ; the Ninja to the Kinder, Wendy to the cypress trees, Jen to the S bend and Lili let loose for a short shift beyond. (Tina was excused from duty considering her Amy Gillet 138 km effort on Sunday).
Kim worked her wattage to the highway where Kreeky was given the lead role for Boundary Rd. Handed the reigns at the bridge, LiamM preserved pace to Old Dookie Rd and that's where Emil's exuberance was unleashed. (A little breeze at the backside and he goes ballistic!) Pace was on the percolator to New Dookie Rd, the cautionary peek east and west for traffic allowing three seconds for oxygen intake before the excessive enthusiasm continued to Lemnos-Cosgrove.
Half toasted at second wheel wasn't the best way to start my second shift, and setting Lemnos North Rd as a target wasn't the brightest idea (though I hadn't made that goal public so only had self to satisfy. I could always throw an elbow at the channel and take the easy option.......but Mr. Stubborn, one of the many voices inside the skull, wouldn't let me) With nine lined up behind, this would be my final fling. The Ninja dug deep to finish Ford Rd's first leg and Wendy kept the velocity simmering to Verney Rd for Jen to take us south. Barely a k had passed when Emil's energy couldn't be restrained - he had to bolt to Balaclava to push that pedestrian button. (should I tell him the lights only change on a timer linked to the magnetic loop in the road?) All were happy to let him dash to the horizon while we proceeded at the previous pace, the traffic lights complying green just as we arrived.
14/9 The spokesman returns.
All the winter insulation came out of the wardrobe (to the rescue) again on Wednesday ; just 1 degree chilled the bones on the first k south but Emil's standards on commuting speed soon put some warmth in the legs. (It's always the other guy that sets the speed isn't it?) Lots of lights circled Sanctuary Drive in the minutes before chocks away, the line up at 5:39 bringing The Godfather, Boof, Bruce, Kreeky, Greg, Emil, Rocket, Grumpy, Tina, Wozza, the 5ft Ninja, Jen and PistolPete together for the mid-week social spin. It took a moment for ears to adjust to The Godfather's return but the legs were at least ready for mid 30's after cooking them on the commute.
Into Mitchell Rd felt like full steam ahead though a glance at the speedo between huffs and puffs was a little disappointing ; low 35's were on display. The effort felt like low 40's. (oh well, somedays you've got it, others you 'aint!) An easterly was apparent on the turn north toward River Rd and no doubt the residents of Central Kialla knew of The Godfather's return (a weeks worth of Corona isolation and he was making up for lost words!) Grumpy was almost a match for his decibels as we drove the east path of River Rd though my concentration was on that easterly as I was promoted further forward. Tina withdrew her nomination for a turn when she'd got to second wheel and ducked to the left line for shelter, so I'd got a fast promotion to the front with Jen headed to Coach Rd. That easterly felt like the handbrake was on the second click. Part two had Kreeky alongside aimed at rooster corner (still crows in the cold) so wasn't I pleased he and Jen had lower targets on tempo.
The early light seems to arrive even earlier these days so there's a feeling of running late with daylight near the Broken bridges (all the better to see the pot-holes with!) ; my theory on why Greg and Boof provided plenty of pace to the highway. The Godfather had a calmer post-covid tempo set in Boundary Rd and that suited the Ninja's turn to the bridge, though Wozza and Rocket resumed the social standard to Old Dookie Rd. Steering west turned a little vague, a short sharp bounce on the handlebars confirming a somewhat mushy Michelin. I'd hoped there'd be enough pressure in it to get me to the cafe where repairs could be done in civilized conditions but of course it didn't survive the strike on a lump of dried mud near the Central Ave orchard. Halting the crew in the cold while I repaired it prompted a fast fix (The Godfather's time limit driving it)
16/9 Farnarkling in the fog.
Some opted to sleep in and the fog softened some to choose the virtual-but-not-really-reality of Zwift, but after being denied a ride by Thursday's drenching, PistolPete, Gazza, Wozza, Jen, Kreeky, the 5ft Ninja, Rocket, Greg, The Godfather, Tina, Grumpy, Emil and Bruce chose to brave the damp road and abbreviated vision of Friday's 9 degrees and 100% humidity to blow a few cobwebs off. To hell with a clean bike.......again! (This was our tribute to Rule #9). Coincidence put me between Tina and Grumpy as the bunch set south while the wind seemed to be swinging in all directions. From demotion to promotion in the advance line through Central Kialla, fingers furiously pointed to puddles in some (misguided?) hope of avoiding a spotted kit or that delightful nasal irrigation, but most were feeling like a damp dishcloth already.
The two thumbnails worth of traction thing filled the head and forced a tip-toe 'round the off camber turn into River Rd, the added drama of last night's 2mm of rain was that pot-holes were now disguised as puddles. Relying on the memory of where the big ones were was risky. What felt like a southeaster (when the bureau reckoned it was a westerly) probably niggled at Tina (getting closer to the front) to raise a white flag and seek asylum in the left line, so I was promoted to The Godfathers wheel. That spellbinding chameleon paint job on his new De Rosa wasn't so stunning covered in road grime!
The shifting wind shortened shifts and reaching the Broken bridges, The Godfather and I were on duty (no matter what the Bureau said, that wind was a nasty northeaster) There was a strange sensation driving toward the highway though ; I was easily matching The Godfather's wheel and at times I needed to slow to keep it that way (and that's a rare thing for me to say!) Happy to comply, considering his comeback from Covid, I banked a breath or three ready for Grumpy being alongside in Boundary Rd. Past the pub, over the highway, up to Hosie Rd and aimed further north, breaths were running short, so the draft from a passing truck saved my bacon to reach Boundary's bridge (getting showered in road spray was tolerated for the tow)
PistolPete provided the pace to Old Dookie Rd without the extremes of effort I need. Ah.......but he's young. (In fact they're all young Foss!) Fog had lifted a little and the draft was a delight along Old Dookie Rd, particularly without that threat of a softening tyre (though I was suspecting a crook cleat when the right foot had a lot more float than 5 degrees) Gazza got on the gas for the thrash to SPC, with just a hint of caution for the damp, while my right knee was giving me grief as that cleat float increased. Or was it the pedal?
Coffee tastes even better when you're partially soaked but the feeling through the foot became particularly peculiar for the commute toward home. Washing the mud and worms away revealed the answer......
94,550 km and the right crank gave up the ghost.
This week 206km
YTD 9,482 km
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