Post #666
8/10 Insomnia, perambulating possums and a somewhat sedate Saturday spin.
Scrolling through social media at 4am and I was losing the will to live! Eyes had sprung open at 3am and refused to close again, even a sluggish breakfast hadn't got me nearer to ride time so I reckoned soaking up a free 50 minutes with a quiet tap was better for the brain than Facebook could ever be! (I could roll along at snail's pace too, if the internal competition department would allow it). New Dookie, Central Ave, Old Dookie and a crooked path back to Tarcoola got me back to the "normal" stupid o'clock rendevous time to find Emil. That leisurely little lap (without a car in sight) might just have been the cure to my usual concerns on the commute to Sanctuary Drive ; it wasn't the usual torture and we had a southwester to fight just to get there! Plenty of horsepower assembled at the roundabout (Grumpy, Bruce, Boof, Rocket, Bo, PistolPete, Greg and GiantAndy) but self reassured me that none of them bite; hopefully they'd tolerate my tame turn at the front (or I could just hang on as caboose if GiantAndy lit the afterbuners).
Straight onto PistolPete's wheel as he started the lap south was usually The Godfather's favorite berth, but he'd only just appeared from southern parts to u-turn and climb aboard. (Possession is nine tenths of the law they say.....) I'd be the last to face the front before Pistol started round two. Predicting pot-holes was the priority in the anti-clockwise path, many now big enough to park a small car in. Bo seemed to think this was going to be a hot lap till a rapid rabbit shot across our path along Mitchell Rd to turn down the tempo a tad. Comfort came navigating the cobble-like surface (patches upon the patches) near River Rd and we'd remembered the holes near Jarram Way, but a possum darting between the two rows of riders a moment later got the heart-rates up. That took some sting out of the speed and probably calmed Bo's earlier worries (He set a sedate low 30's to the dip)
That southwest breeze made the motion east and north a little less taxing and if I played my cards right, I'd get a shift done before the work to come west on Lemnos-Cosgrove. My target was set at the Toaster as Boof and I fronted for duty in Old Dookie Rd (just hope I didn't bore him silly getting there) but was quite chuffed the old engine kept 35's going for 2 k's. Another k north to the church alongside PistolPete was pushing the limits but that quote "Your body can withstand almost anything, it's your mind that you have to convince" resonated in the skull.
The Godfather had taken up permanent residency in the caboose as the bunch made it's way west on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, the sledges coming thick and fast while the big engines propelled the way toward breakfast (funny, that southwester had no effect on them) while I did some oxygen stocktaking at third wheel. Bruce and Grumpy dragged us closer to town though thoughts of that bolt along the Boulevard and the likelihood of me being elected to the front when we got there got me craving the caboose quite quickly. (I know when I'm outclassed!) Strangely, Wanganui Rd wasn't the workout I'd imagined though Rudd Rd in the 35's spelled something swift was to come. Narrowing to Indian file as the Boulevard gained a centre island signaled the usual thrash was about to happen, so as speed settled to 38's to Tarcoola, I figured Christmas had arrived early. 40 to Knight St was almost bearable. Pot-hole locations, Gerbils and cars of our childhood were the varied verbals over scrambled eggs and coffee.
10/10 And here's me thinking Winter was o.t.a!
The search party was summoned to track down the (mothballed) worst-of-winter insulation for Monday. Feels like minus 1 didn't help the motivation, particularly when sleep was on my search list too (to no avail). Maybe those 34 days of 3 or below so far this year had hardened me, 'cause the cold didn't bite so hard when I prodded the old engine into delivering a reasonable pace to Tarcoola. Jen and Emil arrived to spin the 10 km south ; Jen now a convert to the tubeless faith with a new set of Scope wheels to wrap them on. The commute to Sanctuary wasn't the usual flogging of a dead horse, a slight southwest breeze to push into confirmed something was in my favor.
The 5ft Ninja, PistolPete, Greg, Rocket, Kreeky, Kel and Bruce found their way to the roundabout by 5:40, a strangely serene start south without the on-board entertainment that usually hints of The Godfather's presence. The arrival at the truck route had a car close in from the rear, Trav had motor-paced young Liam to the bunch when floodwaters put his usual route from home under threat. I'd found Greg's wheel joining the advance line when two rows formed, so now had young Liam as a part two partner when my turn came due. (No pressure Foss! He's only half a century younger!) Pistol and Emil had led us to Mitchell Rd and Bruce was on possum patrol to Central Kialla. A bit of breeze at the backside along River Rd put me at (some) ease for the effort east at the front with Greg from the bridge to the dip, young Liam heedful of his horsepower beside me for part two.
I'd got sight of the quarter horse stud's white fence just the old engine started spluttering under the load, so reckoned near enough was good enough for this old dinosaur. (Alright, call me Mediocrates!) Jen's shift may have been inspired by those new wheels (there's got to be some benefit to ease the pain in the purse) though the thought of that low tubeless pressure would feel like a handbrake to me. Kel and Kreeky finished off River Rd to steer us north on Coach Rd where the Ninja aimed at the Broken bridges. Just a week into daylight savings time and light already breaks at yonder Mt Major, a little visual stimulation to help endure the lack of temperature (and the orange / pink introduction is a far better mood maker than winter's dull grey). Boundary Rd's craters were successfully navigated around, and old mate in the gravel truck shot past with almost a metre that matters. Up and over the bridge at a dizzying half metre elevation and on to the fig farm, Pistol and Emil provided the slipstream to Old Dookie Rd. Backlit by more of Monday's hint of a spring day, the way west had speed spurred on by the welcomed warmth that coffee might bring. With Rocket and Greg leading as the bunch crossed Central Ave, I'd be spared the stress of the squirt to SPC. Greg's watts took care of that task when two rows thinned to one beyond the truck route.
11/10 That deflation sensation.
Word of continuing roadworks in Channel Rd put a little caution into Emil's drive to Doyles Rd, the dismount to cross the half metre torn out of the bypass road refreshed the oxygen levels enough for me to add to the Orrvale Rd leg and carry on to the Kinder. Great theory at the start Foss, but a slowly strengthening easterly in the face questioned my enthusiasm half way along the ChaCha. (it's still a spectacularly smooth surface - a riders' nirvana in view of the current conditions of most roads) Finish what you started Gran used to say (I'd struggle with the shame of flicking an elbow half way through a shift) so I soldiered on to Central Ave for the Ninja to take the reigns. Being back in the draft was a nice reward for enduring my own stupid decision. Kim's shift from the cypress trees was a bit short (not that anybody measures) ; time off two wheels and that strengthening wind probably wasn't helping so Wendy was given the task to lead on (there's something about the squirrels that makes her skip the Woulda's)
Jen got the new wheels working north on Coach Rd and continued over the highway to Boundary's bridge. Emil's effort was up next and I'll bet I wasn't the only one wondering if I'd hold on. 38's and 9's might be pushing the boundaries but all had survived to reach New Dookie Rd. Their treat was my slower shift to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd (to be honest, I couldn't deliver much more. Some of the reason might be second wheel syndrome but a squirmy sensation from the rear wheel seemed to be the main reason). Trying to dismiss a slow puncture as fantasy and substitute softness as the reason was difficult when the legs worked overtime to get to our turn west. The Ninja was on strict instructions to tame her opening tempo toward Lemnos and surprisingly she conformed. Kim had taken up residence in the caboose. The breeze at the backside poured motivation into the 5ft one's drive to reach Lemnos North Rd while I sat second last wheel, still suffering that squirm.
A puncture seemed probable.
Wendy did the drive into Ford Rd and that sensation grew stronger, now my hopes were hung on getting home rather than forcing a stop to our spin. The smallest bump in Ford Rd's surface had the rim kiss the tarmac and that spelled stop any anyone's language. I guess the bonus was I didn't have The Godfather and his stopwatch "assisting" the repairs. Nothing found in the tyre (hate that!) so faith and 16 grams of CO2 went into the spare (patched) tube, hoping it would last the distance to town. Emil elected himself as captain on the restart and we'd all predicted the circuit agenda from there - he'd do the short burst to Grahamvale Rd, a drive to Verney then dominate the southbound shift to Balaclava Rd. Standard squirrel stuff really, though there wasn't the trademark blast to press the pedestrian button, they'd changed the moment a shoe disengaged and touched the tarmac!
14/10 Weirdo's or warriors?
It wasn't quite 40 days and 40 nights but 76mm of damp over 2 days halted any sort of play on 2 wheels. I wasn't expecting a dry driveway in the stupid o'clock hours of Friday morning but a shower predicted for 9am meant a few k's might be squeezed in (just to calm the cravings caused by 48 hours of deprivation) Heading south from home found a bit of damp at the road's edge so finding Emil at Tarcoola put credence into the possibility of a spin. Roads became damper further south toward Sanctuary Drive as thoughts of time spent cleaning the bike yesterday were shoved into the lost cause bin. (Just think Foss, all the road grime and puddles would run-in that new close ratio cassette nicely!) Emil and I circled Sanctuary's streets to soak up the 3 or 4 minutes to flagfall but not another bike was seen (some maybe sneaking in from the south, others might be circling the other streets?) A deserted grid at the roundabout was the answer at 5:40. (There'd be more than a short shift at the front and a tow home today Foss!)
With due care set on the menu, Emil set the first shift south, the north northwester making motion toward the truck route easy, but an inch of water over a short stretch of leg 2 toward Mitchell Rd was unexpected. The slow path through it kept feet dry. The urge to make a contribution got me to the front in Mitchell Rd ; Emil had kindly set a sensible speed I could try to maintain so spotting the difference between puddles and pot-holes had a chance. Where puddles became ponds was the new challenge. Second wheel through Central Kialla was the perfect placement ; Emil's energy could cope with the wind head on while this old dinosaur could bank a few breaths ready for a second shift. The opening 2 km of River Rd settled to 33's after my presumptuous pace of 35's at the beginning (we tend to become far less heroic when faced with a greater workload and the thoughts of only second wheel as recovery) Emil led beyond the bridge toward the dip and I figured it would have a lake within it too, but surprise surprise, just a puddle or two presented. With another slow a kilometre onward for a 10 metre length of water (40mm deep gauged by the 50mm wheels rolling through it) got some more oxygen banked so I could do something like a fair share of the shifts.
Two more soggy sections along River Rd were difficult to see with cloud covering any hint of early morning light (gotta love that splash of cold water up the inside leg!). Emil did the north drive on Coach Rd to the highway, bless his #neveralone socks, so I had something saved up to lead the opening k of Boundary. A solitary '51 rider spun south. Intentions of driving to the fig farm were shelved when Emil took the driver's seat soon after the bridge ; who am I to argue with his enthusiasm? I could at least make turn number 5 at the front something worthwhile now that wind was at the starboard side in Old Dookie Rd ; with help from the shelter of a few trees I made it to Central Ave. A couple of extra k's in Emil's per hour to Dobson's and beyond drained any desire to be at the front again, besides, he could cope with the sting to SPC and the brief shower that came with it. We finished with a certain smugness of knocking out a lap when the rest of the Coulda's couldn't, and didn't that Butter Factory brew taste good at the end!
This week 248km
YTD 10,453
No comments:
Post a Comment